Midwinter
by Arahiril
Summary: Faramir is lonely on the first Midwinter after the War of the Rings, and feeling out of place. Remembering past holidays, he begins to become depressed. But the holiday spirit conquers all!
1. The Steward's Rooms

Midwinter  
  
Summary: Faramir is lonely on the first Midwinter after the War of the Rings, and feeling out of place. Remembering past holidays, he begins to become depressed. But the holiday spirit conquers all!  
  
A/N: Do the Gondorians celebrate Midwinter? I have no idea. They do have a Midsummer's Day of sorts, just like medieval times, but since it is the holiday season (depending on your religion, of course) I wanted to do a holiday story. But I didn't want to do any particular religious affiliation, so that no one would get offended. So now they celebrate Midwinter. Happy Midwinter!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't make any money off Lord of the Rings, Faramir is not mine *cry*, and neither is anything else in the story. Now I feel poor.  
  
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Chapter One: The Steward's Rooms  
  
Faramir stood by the open window in his study. Even though the weather was cold, he was fairly used to lower temperatures, and so the window remained open. The fresh air blew calmly into the room, ruffling his hair, along with some of the papers on his desk. He turned around to straighten them, and secured them with a small book. [Only two more weeks until Midwinter. The parties have already begun.] Things seemed so different this year: his beloved brother was gone, his father was gone, the Shadow was defeated, the King had returned. Eowyn was still in Rohan, so he would not see her, this first Midwinter even knowing her. [I think that I was in Ithilien last Midwinter. No,] he remembered, [that was three years ago. Time seems to fly by. I can hardly remember such things anymore.] The large clock tower in the 3rd circle began to chime. [What time is it?] He counted the rings, discovering that it was noontime. [That's not that late at all. I suppose I'll have a quiet lunch, and then.] A thought sprang back into his mind again. [I was expected to be at the King's table to lunch with him a half- hour ago!] Faramir muttered to himself about his own forgetfulness, grabbed his cloak, and dashed out of his quarters down the hallway, ignoring the strange looks given by the passing servants.  
  
[I hope he isn't waiting for me. How on Earth could I have forgotten?] His own thoughts answered him. [Because I was standing by the window for an hour, and not paying attention. Valar, no wonder Father was always annoyed at my tardiness. I don't even have a good excuse!] He smoothed his hair before knocking on the door. A familiar servant answered and bid him enter. Faramir was led to the private dining rooms of the King, and admitted. He bowed low. "Forgive me, King Elessar, I completely lost track of the time."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "We were wondering what happened to you. I was just about to send someone, but I thought you'd come eventually." Faramir glanced at the table, and noticed none of the counselors were there, only the King's dearest friends, Legolas and Gimli.  
  
"I'm so sorry, I really am. Forgive me." Faramir looked uncertainly at the King. [I never quite know what to expect from him. There are times when he is extremely kind, almost to the point of fault; and then there are times that he can be seized with strong anger. But I never know which will greet me, if I do something wrong, for he seems to sway so quickly. I've never really done anything out of line yet, so I don't really know. I just hope he isn't staunch about punctuality.]  
  
"Profuse apologies are not needed. It can happen to anyone. Sit down," Aragorn smiled again. "We have some small business, and then we can all be free. I long to begin celebrating as much as the rest of you do."  
  
Gimli gave a puff of smoke from his pipe as Faramir sat down at the empty chair that had been placed for him at the foot of the table. He noticed, with a bit of hurt, that the dwarf had taken the chair in which he normally sat, and that Legolas now sat on Aragorn's left. But Faramir didn't say anything, or make any motion or gesture to indicate his feelings. [I had thought that Aragorn and I were beginning to become friends. But I should know better than to think that he would place me before Legolas and Gimli.]  
  
"Now to business. Gimli, you have sent for your relatives of the mountains?"  
  
"Aye, that I have. But, Aragorn, I should tell you that it will be a few more months before the workers can begin, since they need to gather tools, and find suitable supplies, and also housing for themselves here." Faramir was puzzled as to why he was present at such a meeting.  
  
"I was expecting that, and I have planned accordingly. On the first day of the New Year, which is now March 25th, if I need to remind you, I was hoping to begin work. In this manner, we could open the New Year's celebrations with the placing of the 1st stone in the building of the new Gate. What think you of this?"  
  
"Easily done, Aragorn. And a good idea too." Legolas and Faramir nodded their assents.  
  
"Good. Legolas - have you spoken to Thranduil yet?"  
  
"No, but I am sure he will allow our Elves to come and live here. And we will bring many gifts from the forests to help liven the City after Gimli and his fellow dwarves turn it to stone."  
  
"Better sturdy stone than a mushy plant, Legolas." Legolas made a mock bow, sending the three into laughter. Faramir smiled softly, feeling out of place. [I should have been here even later. I'm intruding, aren't I? But I have to stay anyway.]  
  
"What else do you plan to rebuild, Aragorn?" Legolas's blue eyes turned curious. "I hope there is room enough for gardens in your City."  
  
"Plenty of room, Legolas. But first I would wish to redecorate, at least, the Palace. Too many Shadows still lurk in the corners," Aragorn said. "I would have the Tower shine as of old."  
  
"Another good idea, Aragorn," Gimli said. "We can help you with that, certainly." Legolas shot him a look. Gimli gave in with a sigh, giving forth another large puff of smoke. "And the Elves, will, of course, be of good help to you as well." Legolas sat back, satisfied.  
  
"Which rooms will you renovate first? Your own?"  
  
"Nay, Legolas, mine were renovated for me to live in them," Aragorn laughed. "They had not been used for nearly a thousand years!" Again the trio laughed merrily. [What am I doing here?] Faramir again found himself asking. [How the King wishes to renovate his City has nothing to do with me.] "Nay, I have already chosen the next project," said Aragorn, when Gimli suggested they start with the Council room. "The Steward's rooms need to be made ready."  
  
"What?" Faramir sat up straight suddenly. "Made ready for what? They have already been prepared for the wedding." Eowyn and Faramir had already redecorated the rooms, but not very much, as the couple planned on spending most of their time on Emyn Arnen. [Eowyn has not complained, surely, for she was quite pleased with the results. What is he talking about?]  
  
"Faramir, your rooms are too simple. You need to be given lodgings of more honour. You should move into the official Steward's rooms."  
  
"I see nothing wrong with my rooms."  
  
"It's not only that. It's for display as well - you are the Steward, you therefore must live in his rooms. It's only right." Aragorn was insistent.  
  
Faramir was horrified. [I will never live in the Steward's rooms. Never, never, never.] "I do not wish to live in the Steward's rooms."  
  
"It is your duty!"  
  
"No. If I were choosing between either that or a chicken coop, I would choose the latter. Never. It is not my duty."  
  
"But Faramir -"  
  
Legolas interrupted quietly. "Aragorn, if he doesn't want to live there, he doesn't have to."  
  
"Men are not as understanding as your Elves, Legolas. It is an insult to me, in their eyes, if the Steward does not live in those rooms," Aragorn said.  
  
Gimli broke in, asking Faramir a question he dreaded to answer. "Why do you refuse then, Faramir? You, I am sure, know this as well as Aragorn."  
  
Faramir didn't know what to answer. "I would not be comfortable," he answered weakly. [It's true enough, though,] he thought. [I wouldn't sleep for a moment in there. Walking past those doors still gives me a chill.]  
  
Legolas looked at him reassuringly. "We all know that the memories of your father's death must still haunt you. But if this must be done, I am sure you will become more accustomed to being there."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas were staring at his eyes, trying to see into him, just like Denethor used to. Faramir fell back onto a strategy that he had learned long ago, and even become an expert in. He had not done it for months, not for at least two months, but in his desperation he felt he had no choice. He closed off his eyes to them, letting them become blank, expressionless blue-grey circles that just 'happened' to be there. He could see the surprise in Aragorn and Legolas's faces. He knew he was acting just like a spoiled child, but he would not yield to them in this. [They have no right to see my memories of that place. I will share them with no one.] "I will never, ever become accustomed to those rooms. I cannot."  
  
"Don't be so stubborn, Faramir. It's for the best. Put old ghosts to rest." Aragorn tried to sound kind, but his intentions were not reflected in the way the comment sounded to Faramir.  
  
Faramir turned colder, but only slightly. "What old ghosts do you mean? I can think of none."  
  
Legolas was trying hard not to upset him, and Faramir noticed it. The elf tried to cool the rising argument between the King and his Steward. "I'm sure that a compromise can be found. Aragorn, cannot you have the entire official rooms completely redone? Can you take down the walls and such, until it bears no more resemblance to the old rooms?"  
  
Aragorn looked at Gimli, who answered with his professional opinion. "It would be hard, but I'm sure it's possible, especially for the most skilled of the Mountain."  
  
Legolas turned to Faramir, who had withdrawn himself even further. [Why don't they understand? It's not only the rooms - it's the fact that I'd be moving into what is - was - Father's. So many memories.] "Is not that more agreeable?"  
  
Faramir's head was bowed. He knew he should agree, knew that they were doing this for him, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. The question remained unanswered. Eventually, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli fell to talking of their plans for the rest of the City, but Faramir just sat at the foot of the table, his head bowed. 


	2. Memories Old and New

Sorry - I forgot to mention the following: Brackets [like these] are thoughts A bar of stars * * * like that mean a flashback A bar of triplets --- --- --- --- like that mean a break  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, except the arrangement of the words. But I still love Faramir anyway. *swoon*  
  
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Chapter Two: Memories Old and New  
  
The rest of the week passed, but not calmly. Faramir had a large argument with Aragorn, over the topic of the Steward's rooms. He had felt completely justified though, when he returned from a journey to the site of Emyn Arnen only to find that while he had been away, Aragorn had ordered his rooms to be emptied, and all his possessions placed in the official Steward's chambers. Faramir had been livid.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir stormed into the King's office, hurt and anger all over his face. "What in Eru's name were you thinking?"  
  
Aragorn looked up at Faramir. "Don't be angry, Faramir. You were never going to move your things - I had to do it for you. I meant no offense, honestly. But -"  
  
"But nothing! You had no right!"  
  
Aragorn had a soft spot - he always took particular offense when someone questioned his authority, after spending so many years with none at all. "I had every right, Steward, to make sure that you act your position."  
  
"And I have every right to demand a little common courtesy!"  
  
"I had to do it, since you never would!"  
  
"I didn't want it done! And all you did was go behind my back, moving all of my things, even my most personal belongings! And with no warning whatsoever! Here I am, walking into my rooms like a fool, only to see that they are completely empty!"  
  
Aragorn threw down his pen in disgust. "Lord Faramir" - here he hit one of Faramir's soft spots - "you are the Steward, and therefore need to have the Steward's rooms! I don't understand your problem with that. Where's your sense of duty? It isn't my fault that you and your father never got along - I am trying my hardest to make sure that you are shown the dignity and honour and benefits of your position as Steward, so that the people of Gondor don't think that you are merely there for a consolation prize!"  
  
"If you had asked me - you should have told me! How am I being shown honour when you go behind my back! Everything was just dumped into the room, and left in a pile, and no one even thought to empty out Father's belongings!"  
  
Aragorn began to shout at him. "I thought that you would want to do that yourself! That is your duty, which you haven't been showing at all lately!"  
  
"My things are in complete disarray, one of my most cherished possessions has been destroyed, and you're telling me that I am not showing my sense of duty! It's blasted duty that's keeping me out of those rooms!" He pounded a fist down onto the desk.  
  
"Duty to yourself! We all have to grow up and face our fears, Lord Faramir. It's obvious to me that you still haven't faced your old demons." Faramir opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn held up his hand to silence him, just as his father used to. "You will sleep in the Steward's rooms tonight, even if I have to send a guard to make sure that you do."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir did sleep in those rooms. If it could be called sleep. He spent the nights tossing and turning miserably on the bed. He began having the intense dreams again, the ones that make him shake in his sleep, as though he is having a seizure. Fortunately, Beregond had been warned before, and so knew not to wake Faramir, lest he be taken ill. The week of poor sleep, or none at all, had taken its toll on Faramir, so that by a week to Midwinter, he looked positively unwell. He avoided Aragorn all week, and had hardly seen Legolas and Gimli. No one had been told of the argument, and everyone just assumed that Faramir had begun to live in the apartments by his own free will.  
  
Faramir used to spend much time in his rooms, but now that he could not, he found himself in the archives more, once his meagre work had been completed. [Nothing ever happens around Midwinter,] he thought to himself one day. He contented himself with the new store of knowledge that had been opened to him, since Aragorn took the Crown. Denethor had not allowed him into the archives, only the main library, but Aragorn had given him free permission, and so Faramir began to explore this new frontier of his.  
  
Faramir was very lonely, though. This was the first Midwinter that he had spent without any family whatsoever. Even if those days were not joyful, he had taken advantage of them, never truly thinking on what would happen if those days would be no more. He began to remember the first Midwinter that he could.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Father, can we go play in the snow?" Boromir's eager face peeked over the windowsill.  
  
"Nay, my son, not until later. You want to eat your breakfast and open your gifts, don't you?" Denethor smiled a rare smile, which helped to erase some of the growing wrinkles on his face. Boromir nodded his head, his brown hair bouncing. Denethor picked him up, and carried him to the table, where Faramir and Finduilas already sat.  
  
"Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Faramir." Finduilas's weary eyes lowered to her son's face, and said a quiet good morning with a smile. Faramir responded just as quietly, still in pain from the previous night.  
  
Denethor sat down at the table, and the family began to eat. The conversation was mostly between Boromir and Denethor. Finally the Steward spoke to his youngest son. "Do you think that the leg braces are helping you walk better, Faramir? Your nurse seems pleased with the results."  
  
Faramir lifted his large blue-grey eyes from the meal to his Father. "They hurt very much," he said quietly, "but I suppose they do their work."  
  
"That's what they're supposed to do. You see, Finduilas? You worry for nothing. The braces are well for Faramir."  
  
The woman looked tiredly at Denethor, as though she had not slept, even though she had gone to her rest hours before her husband. "Such a small child should not have to deal with such pain," she said. Finduilas smiled down at her two sons. "I have gifts for you. Let me get them for you from their hiding places."  
  
She rose slowly out of her seat, Denethor's eyes following her cautiously. She took a few steps forward, but then tripped and fell. Giving a small cry, she landed on the floor. Denethor ran forward. "Finduilas!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Captain Faramir, it is one o' clock," Beregond interrupted his thoughts. [That's right. I asked him to call me at one.] He smiled. [Beregond still calls me Captain. At least someone remembers that I am still Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, which has been so far my favourite title to hold.]  
  
"Thank you, Beregond." The man left. [What did I want to do at one? Oh yes. I have to meet with Aragorn.] He looked unhappily at the book in his hands, then placed it back on the shelves. Closing the archive door, he made his way to the Council Chamber. With any luck, the meeting would be cancelled or some other nonsense. 


	3. Memories of a Wintertime Merry

First of all, thanks to my first reviewers of all time, Angel and Patty!!  
  
Angel: My first reviewer ever!! *hug* Thanks so much for your comment!! Alas, I despise Denethor. Despise him to the core. And he gets meaner, for two reasons: (1) I'm almost finished with the story, and don't feel like re- writing, and (2) I think that Denethor would have always been cruel to Faramir, at least after Finduilas died. But thanks anyway!! Sorry. Hope you keep reading anyway.  
  
Patty: My second reviewer ever!! *hug* I'm EXTREMELY appreciative of the encouragement. It means a lot to me. Thanks!! When I first came to this website, I was really surprised to see die-hard Faramir fans. I thought I was the only one. It is a cozy feeling to know that you're not alone!! Thanks again.  
  
Please review!! I've so enjoyed reading mine, and I'm really surprised how happy it makes me feel. *sighs contentedly* *pulls out pipe-weed, and blows a smoke ring* I've also discovered that I love responding to them. So - make me a happy person - review!!  
  
Disclaimer: Faramir and his wonderfulness are not mine, and neither is anything else. All must bow to Faramir!! *teehee* __________________________  
  
Chapter Three: Memories of a Wintertime Merry  
  
Legolas and Gimli sat in the same places as they had when Faramir was last there, and the same chair had been placed for him at the foot of the table. He calmly took a seat. Aragorn had not arrived yet, and Faramir greeted Legolas and Gimli warmly. Gimli first brought up the topic. "So, you've had a change of heart? Sleeping in the Steward's rooms?"  
  
Faramir didn't quite know what to say to that. He wanted to explain how he was forced to, but it wasn't his place to talk about a person, never mind a King, behind his back. He tried an answer that would be vague enough so that he could elaborate at a later date if the opportunity was provided. [Or if I'm in a foul enough mood,] he thought wryly to himself. "I am sleeping there, aye."  
  
Legolas's eyes shone with concern. "Not very well, it appears."  
  
"I manage. I hope to travel to Rohan soon, though, and then I will not have any worry on the matter." Faramir had asked Aragorn permission a month ago, and he had granted it, but recent events may have changed his mind.  
  
Aragorn walked into the room and they all rose. Faramir bowed, but Legolas and Gimli simply sat down again. He remained standing until Aragorn finally sat down, as a sign of respect. "Well," he began. "Good afternoon." The others wished him the same. "Well," he said again. "I have some wonderful news. Gimli's mountain folk have started to pack their things - they should be here in about a month. We will then begin the design process. As my official design council -" Legolas hid a smile while Gimli openly harrumphed, causing Aragorn to grin "- I want to start figuring out exactly what all this is going to look like."  
  
Gimli pretended to act official. "If, King Elessar, I may add my humble opinion -"  
  
Legolas couldn't help but say something. "No doubt you will whether or not he gives you leave!" He and Aragorn began to laugh.  
  
Gimli glared at Legolas, but there was merriment in his eyes. "That just shows how valuable my opinion is. Anyway, I think that what the Gate looks like should be left to the dwarves who will build it. They will build one of size, strength, and beauty - I can guarantee that. Give them free rein." He added an afterthought. "And the Elves, of course, can do whatever they like after. But a Gate, even in peacetime, must be made for strength."  
  
Legolas added his agreement. "Well said, Master Dwarf." The trio continued their planning, but Faramir found himself not listening. [It's clear that I'm only here for show. I don't see exactly why all this is being planned now, but it is Aragorn's decision to plan early, I suppose.] Faramir's thoughts began to turn towards the memories from the archives.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Finduilas smiled in bed. "I know you two boys desire to go and play in the snow. You may leave me - I do not mind at all. Just be careful." Boromir and Faramir climbed onto the bed, the latter more slowly. They gave their mother a hug and a kiss. Boromir ran out of the room to get their cloaks. Finduilas hugged Faramir hard. "Be careful, Faramir. Do not stay out too long, for you are so vulnerable to chills. And do not feel as though you must keep up with Boromir. Everyone knows that you have his strength inside you, and you will one day have the opportunity to show it." Faramir nodded his serious face at his mother, and gave her an extra hug. With one last look, he left the room. Finduilas sank back onto the pillows, her own strength spent. Calling the nurse, she pulled her blankets up higher. She spoke strongly to her, and told her to move the bed so that she could watch her sons play in the snow. Eventually, to persuade the woman, she resorted to begging her. The nurse agreed finally, and so Finduilas watched her boys in the courtyard. She fell asleep to the sound of their laughter.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir closed his eyes for a moment to forget the memory. When he opened them, Legolas was casting him a side-glance, while Aragorn and Gimli sat at the table laughing. His eyes met Legolas's, and the Elf seemed to speak with his eyes. [Are you all right?] he seemed to ask. Faramir responded with his own eyes, trying to make them look convincing, but he knew that he wasn't doing a very good job. He sighed. [Too many memories.]  
  
Aragorn and Gimli composed themselves. "Now, let us turn to the next order of business: the Steward's rooms. Faramir, I am sure you will want them to be redecorated." Aragorn smiled coaxingly. "Do you want us to rip down the walls?"  
  
Faramir didn't want to answer. [I don't want to live there at all, you fool!] He felt trapped, though, into answering. He came up with a non- answer. "With all due respect, I think that Eowyn should have a say in what is decided." He couldn't resist a slight dig, for he was still furious about the whole affair, and even more than that, hurt by Aragorn's insensitivity. "We had redecorated before, but now that it will have to be redone, I want it all to be comfortable for her, at least." He stared straight at Aragorn, causing the man to look away for a moment. He took the opportunity to mention his trip to Edoras. "If I can still go to Rohan, I can ask for her opinion, and anything that she wants done." An idea hit him that would eliminate the whole situation for a time. "But it would be even better if we could postpone doing anything to those rooms" - he didn't even refer to them as his own - "until she is here, and can supervise things herself."  
  
Aragorn agreed. "Then it is settled that nothing will be done until she comes back to Minas Tirith for the wedding." The bell-tower began to chime two. "Well, I think that that's certainly enough for this topic. Now to the gardens." As Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli continued their planning, Faramir once more slipped back to his memories, but these were not as pleasing to remember.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"My sons, I know this is the first Midwinter without your mother, my Finduilas," Denethor began. "But we must be grateful for what we have. And we must show that our family can continue on, despite any problems that we may have. I am the Steward of Gondor, and you are my sons. Always remember that." Boromir nodded solemnly, and Faramir followed suit. The family began to eat.  
  
Boromir and Denethor talked quietly about the snow they had had the year before, but Faramir just sat at the table. He often sat in silence while the others talked, especially since his mother had died. Eventually, they finished the meal. Denethor rose, and walked across the room. "It is time to open your gifts. Boromir, this is yours." He held out a long package to the boy, who jumped up to receive it, enthusing thanks to his father. Faramir forced himself to his feet after his father glared at him. The pain shooting up and down his legs almost made him topple over, but he knew better than to show weakness to his father. He watched as Boromir unwrapped a real sword, just his size, which was even sharp. Faramir cringed. [I'll never understand how Boromir could ever be pleased with such a gift,] he thought, as his brother shouted with glee.  
  
Denethor then turned his piercing eyes to Faramir, and the boy felt as though his father could see exactly what he was thinking, and was not pleased at all. The Steward then held out a box to his younger son. Faramir took a few uncertain steps forward, but he reached a point where he couldn't walk any further, and he fell to the ground. Boromir instantly ran to him, but Denethor just stood where he was, impassive. "Leave him," he said coldly to Boromir. The boy drew back. "If he is naturally weak, then he needs to learn strength. He must get up, and walk here by himself." Faramir stared up into Denethor's hard eyes, hoping and praying for a reprieve from this, but none came. He gathered his strength, and in a minute he was able to stand. The pain ran through his legs, so much that he wobbled, but he would not let himself fall over. Faramir took a few more steps, his legs shaking terribly. He could see Boromir standing behind his father, biting his lip anxiously. [I just have to make it to Boromir. Then I will be all right.]  
  
Faramir managed to take a few more steps, before he fell again. But he pushed himself to his feet quickly, trying not to think on the anguish he was feeling. Eventually, he made it to his father. Boromir enveloped Faramir in a hug. "Good job, little Brother. You're improving." Faramir managed a weak smile. Denethor knelt by his son, who had collapsed on the floor at his feet, and placed the package on Faramir's lap.  
  
"This is for you, and I hope you enjoy it." Faramir slowly unwrapped the gift, and opened the box. Inside lay what was to become his greatest treasure: a book of Sindarin grammar. Faramir had the language learned in six months.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Faramir?" Aragorn's voice broke through his thoughts. "Faramir?"  
  
"What? What were you saying?" Faramir was floundering, trying desperately not to make a fool of himself, never mind avoid disrespecting the King. "I'm sorry, I missed your question."  
  
Gimli interrupted. "It appears as though you missed the entire conversation." Faramir bowed his head in an attempt to hide his reddening face.  
  
"Never mind, Faramir. We all know that Gimli is enough to put any man to sleep." He and Legolas laughed, while Gimli sat scowling, but matching his friends' laughter in his eyes. "I was just asking what traditions I am required to perform on Midwinter. I should have asked before, but I forgot to. What did Denethor do?"  
  
Faramir thought for a moment. "The holiday was mostly quiet, for it was considered a day of rest, even for the Steward. Father, however, used to hold an open day for petitions, so that any man could come before him privately, seeking the answer to a hard question, or asking advice, or trying to settle a dispute. This usually took most of the day. Since this tradition came from the Kings, it may be wise for you to do the same." Aragorn nodded his head. "Also, in ancient days, the King used to cure the King's evil, but I doubt if anyone even has it in the City, the condition now being so rare. And naturally, the Stewards could not fulfill this obligation, so it hasn't been done for a thousand years. I daresay the people will overlook it if you do not follow this tradition."  
  
"Thank you Faramir. I will hold the day open for petitions, at least. After all, it is a tradition, and those should never be thrown by the wayside," Aragorn said. [I wonder why only some traditions are worth saving,] Faramir thought to himself. He hid a wry smile. [I suppose it's only the traditions that deal with the King.]  
  
"Can we break now, Aragorn? I still haven't gotten my pipe-weed," Gimli asked.  
  
"Yes, I was planning it. Meet back here in a half-hour?" The members of the planning committee nodded their heads in approval, and left the room. 


	4. Memories of a Staircase

Disclaimer: None of the characters, places, or anything else in here belongs to me.  
  
Warning: Faramir gets a few bumps in this chapter (or 17 - whichever you prefer). *cough* - Denethor is involved - *cough* I don't know if I'm particularly pleased with the way this chapter ended up. *hint hint* Review, please!!  
  
Elektra12: My third reviewer ever!! *hug* I wonder if I should keep a tally. Anyway, does that mean you think that this is a good Faramir story? If so, I am SO happy!! I intend to update a chapter as soon as I finish revising each chapter, which is pretty often, since my homework is very light this week. Thanks for the compliment!!  
  
LeeAnn: My fourth reviewer ever!! *hug* I'm so glad I've hooked someone - I've always wanted to do that. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As I said above, I'll be updating pretty often, especially since I want to have this finished before Christmas, which should be plenty of time. Make sure to check back!! Thanks a bundle for reviewing, and for the encouragement!!  
  
Wow. I feel extraordinarily giddy.  
  
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Chapter Four: Memories of a Staircase  
  
Faramir, once dismissed, made his way back to the Steward's quarters. He wanted to get his pencil and sketchbook, so that he could draw in the archives in peace that night, and not even return to the rooms until later. His hand hesitated as it turned the doorknob. He dreaded going back into the rooms, and resolved to just dash in and out. He entered the rooms, and went up the private stairs to the bedchamber with a sigh. [I have to clear all of Father's things out of here.it's a complete wreck. Maybe I'll get started after the holiday.] He ran across the room to the table on which his sketchbook lay, picked it up, and began to run to the spiral staircase. Suddenly, his feet tripped over themselves, and he felt himself begin to pitch forward. Falling down the stairs, he felt his head take a blow, and all went black.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Denethor's voice was growing hoarse from shouting. "How dare you skip your sword lessons! And then I find out that you snuck off to spend the afternoon in the library! Go on, what do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
Faramir took a step backward, his foot landing halfway off the top step of the staircase. "It's - Midwinter," he stammered. "I just wanted to spend the day in the library - I wanted to have some fun - the swordmaster was late. I'm sorry." The boy bowed his head in shame. "I promise it won't happen again."  
  
"Saying sorry doesn't excuse you - what is done is done, and you have lied to me. You told me you went to practice, and you did not," Denethor raged.  
  
"I didn't want you to yell at me," Faramir whispered. "That's why I lied."  
  
Denethor grew even angrier. "What an ungrateful, useless, cowardly child! You seek to blame me for your disobedience?" He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Valar, why have I been cursed with such a son?" Faramir's head bowed lower. "You must be taught your place, boy," Denethor said, as he lifted his arm to strike.  
  
The blow came down hard on the side of Faramir's head, harder than he had expected. He began to lose his balance. As he fell, Faramir gave a cry, and tried to reach out and grasp his father's robes, but Denethor took a step back, and Faramir's body landed in a heap on the stairs. However, he began to roll and could not stop himself. Faramir's head smashed into the wall, as his body toppled along their staircase. He continued to tumble down the stairs, only stopping when he felt level ground beneath him. He took a sharp intake of breath, but winced as his body flared up in pain. He tried to get up, but found that he could not, so he decided to wait for Denethor to come down the stairs. He waited. And waited. Until at last, Faramir could not keep his eyes open, and he let himself be taken by the darkness.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir awoke to find himself on the floor at the foot of the stairs. He gave a groan, and pulled himself to his feet. His head was throbbing, and he tried to recall what had happened. In the vagueness of his memory, he thought he remembered falling down the stairs. [Yes, that's what happened. Father hit me.] But then another recollection came to him - [Father's dead.] Even still, he rubbed his head where he thought Denethor's blow had struck. There was nothing there, except the ache that was pounding its way through his entire head. Looking at the floor, he saw his sketchbook, its cover bent and a few pages wrinkled, and he remembered what had occurred. [Of course! I tripped over myself! What a fool I am.] He leaned over to pick up the pad, but the world began to spin. He stumbled to a chair, and lowered himself into it. [I'd better just rest until I feel better,] he decided, after an unsuccessful attempt to stand up. [I'll just close my eyes for a moment.]  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Faramir!" Boromir's voice broke through the haze that had gathered in his mind. "Faramir, what happened?" Faramir opened his eyes to see Boromir's concerned face leaning in over him.  
  
"Boromir, it is you," Faramir struggled to keep his eyes open. Pain seemed to flow through his body. "The stairs." he trailed off, not wishing to tell his brother about the argument with Denethor.  
  
"You fell down the stairs?" Boromir looked closely at his brother. Faramir nodded his head, but winced slightly with the motion. His brother noticed. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"I don't think so - but I do hurt a bit." Faramir watched Boromir hand move closer, and touch his forehead. He drew back quickly, with alarm written on his face.  
  
"Faramir, you have a huge cut on your forehead! You should go to the healers - I can help you walk, if you like." Boromir turned his hand so that Faramir could see the blood streaked on it.  
  
"I'm not going." [Father doesn't need another excuse to think I'm weak.]  
  
"You are going - and what's more than that, I'm going to carry you there myself." Faramir began to protest, but knew that it was pointless, since he didn't have the strength to resist. He closed his eyes, and felt his older brother's strong arms lift him easily. He fell back asleep, his quiet breathing steady.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir opened his eyes, to find himself in his Father's chair. He stood unsteadily, and rubbed the back of his neck, sore from an uncomfortable position. [I wonder what time it is,] he mused. Then suddenly, it hit him. [We were supposed to be back in the dining room in a half-hour!] He looked out the window, noting that the Sun's position was uncomfortably low. He dashed out of the room, and ran into Gimli in the hallway.  
  
"Watch your step, Lord Faramir," Gimli said. "It is unwise to trip over passersby."  
  
"I'm sorry, Gimli, I didn't see you."  
  
"No, you didn't," Gimli said with a snort. "A half-hour Aragorn said, not nearly two."  
  
"How long?" Faramir's jaw dropped. [It couldn't have been that long.]  
  
"You were missing for two hours. Aragorn just dismissed us - he got tired of waiting. As did Legolas and I. That's twice in one week!"  
  
Faramir nodded his head wearily. "I know, Gimli, and I'm sorry. I have to go make my apologies to the King, so if you'll excuse me."  
  
"Go ahead," Gimli said with a wave of his hand. "Take your time. We're not doing anything the rest of the day." He looked at Faramir, annoyance showing plainly on his face.  
  
"Thank you," Faramir said. He turned towards Aragorn's office, thinking to look there first. [I hope Aragorn isn't too angry. The last thing I need is another argument.] 


	5. Memories of the Healers

Disclaimer: Faramir (ooh, what a great name *swoon*) and all other characters and such are not mine. Woe is me (or I)!! I love Faramir.  
  
A/N: For some strange reason, I'm feeling a little anti-Aragorn in this chapter. It's nothing personal, it's just. I don't know. It seems to fit the storyline. But things will settle down eventually. After all, it is the holidays, and nothing can go wrong!! But Faramir has to wait a bit longer.  
  
PLEASE READ THIS: It occurred to me, whilst reading my wondrous reviews (thanks to all of you ^^) that Aragorn's actions were not very clearly explained. My fault entirely. So - I encourage all of you to read my response to Grumpy, which explains all my own personal feelings about the events, especially since Aragorn gets worse.  
  
Grumpy: Thanks for reviewing!! *hug* Hope you're not grumpy. After all, Midwinter approacheth!! Sorry. Anyway. My thinking on Aragorn and Faramir is thus: Aragorn has to get used to being King - it is a new experience for him, and perhaps he's being just a little brusque, in an attempt to maintain control over his people. Since he's a Ranger, he never really had to have a lot of people-skills anyway - he spent most of his time doing really cool heroics, and capturing Gollum, and killing Orcs and such. Also, as Thorongil, I can't imagine that Aragorn got along very well with Denethor, and Faramir IS Denethor's son, after all. He probably has his own doubts about Faramir, remembering his father. Thirdly, Aragorn is probably stressed out and his nerves are on edge. Finally, there's a TON of other things going on in Aragorn's mind, especially with Midwinter approaching. There's no mention of it yet, but they DO exchange presents. This is also the first year of Aragorn being married (and I haven't decided yet whether or not to include Arwen). So there's a lot of reasons why Aragorn might not exactly be thinking about Faramir's problems right now. Besides, Faramir's not the type to vocalize any problems that he might have; after living with Denethor for all those years, he had become adept at masking his feelings, so that even Aragorn might not notice, if he only glanced. No doubt with a bit of inspection Aragorn WOULD notice, but for the above reasons he might not be particularly concerned. And yes, to reiterate, the two do work things out. Glad to know that you liked the idea of tearing down the rooms. I just wonder what they would do with them afterwards. *scratches head* Probably give them to Faramir's children, or maybe some noble's family. Just a random thought. Thanks so much for reviewing!! I'm very appreciative. Hope this rambling cleared things up for you.  
  
Frodo16424: THANKS!! I'm so glad that you liked the Faramir here. (ooh - that rhymes!!) Anyway, it was SO nice of you to say that - I was really worried about how to write him, since he's such a complex character, and there are so many facets to his personality. I generally update pretty quickly - as evidenced by the updates so far - so have no fear!! Knowing how frustrated I get when people don't update motivates me to update faster myself. Thanks so much for your review!!  
  
Elektra12 - WOW!! MY FIRST REPEAT-REVIEWER!!! *hug* *hug* *gives you a box of chocolate turtles* I'm SO glad that you like the story. You are wonderful!! *hugs you again* *watches you back away* Hope I didn't scare you off.  
  
Therefore: I hereby dedicate this chapter to Elektra12. Sorry it's especially long.  
  
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Chapter Five: Memories of the Healers  
  
"My Lord King?" Faramir knocked on the door to Aragorn's office. He was just about to turn the handle when the door opened wide, revealing a very angry Aragorn.  
  
"Ah, you have finally decided to grace me with your presence," Aragorn scoffed.  
  
"I'm sorry, my Lord, I -"  
  
"Sorry?" Aragorn's angry voice caused the people in the hall behind Faramir to stop and stare - their King was never angry, and to see him completely enraged was a new experience. Noticing this, Aragorn spoke quietly to Faramir. "Come in." As soon as the door was closed, Aragorn wheeled around, and glared at Faramir. "What's wrong with you? Have you suddenly forgotten your duties? I put you on the planning board as a kindness, and you show only contempt for your position by completely disregarding the rest of us!"  
  
Faramir stood silent. ['Tis always best to wait until the person is finished, and then try to escape from the situation as quickly as possible.] "Well?" Aragorn asked. "Have you anything to say for yourself? I'm sure you have a few perfectly good excuses - why don't you try one?"  
  
"I'm sorry that you are angry. But it really wasn't my fault. I -"  
  
"It never is your fault, Lord Faramir! It's always someone else's, or a misunderstanding. Just take responsibility for your actions! Just say it!"  
  
Faramir felt his slow temper beginning to rise. [He's not even listening to me! If he would just let me explain.] "And what would you have me say?"  
  
"I would have you tell me the truth: that you don't want to be on the planning board, and so you deliberately ignore your duties there, instead of just asking me to leave! You're too embarrassed to say that you don't want any change to come to Gondor, but you still want everything the same as it was when Denethor was Steward! Am I not on the mark?"  
  
Faramir stood aghast. [Is this what he really thinks? How he is mistaken!] "You could not be further from the mark! I am greatly honoured by being included on the planning board -"  
  
"Then why do you never come? And even when you are there, you never pay attention!"  
  
"Maybe it's because I play no part in your jests with Legolas and Gimli," Faramir retorted. "Half the times you're not even planning anyway! What purpose is there for me, if we do nothing, except sit and joke? Maybe it's only me, but I thought a planning board actually did work, instead of sitting at a table, smoking pipe-weed! But that doesn't mean -"  
  
"I think I have earned the right to spend some time with my dearest friends. I was hoping that having you there would help you to get to know Legolas and Gimli better!" Aragorn paused. "This isn't anything having to do with the Steward's rooms, is it? Is that why you haven't showed up - you're still angry?"  
  
Faramir stiffened. [Does he think me a spoiled child!] "If it did, I would not be so low as to shirk my duties through my anger. That is something I have never done. I would have hoped that you think better of me."  
  
"You are still angry with me! I can tell! I thought this was settled. I had no choice but to move your things - you have to start getting over it. I did what I thought was best."  
  
"You thought wrong, my Lord. And even though I am still angry about it, I would not be childish enough to -"  
  
"But you are! Faramir, what don't you understand about duty? It's simple! The Steward lives in the Steward's rooms. What is wrong with that? Your servants tell me that you basically live in the archives, that you never spend any time in the rooms, unlike your old habits. You must accept that you are living there, because Denethor and Boromir are dead!"  
  
Faramir let out a shaky sigh. He could see the regret in Aragorn's eyes, and knew that he was sorry, but Faramir didn't care. He felt tears well up in his eyes. "Yes, they are dead," he whispered. "And I am all alone." He turned quickly, opened the door, and left the room without even looking at Aragorn, or bothering to shut the door behind him. He walked swiftly, trying to reach somewhere private, so that he could be left to himself, and not be ashamed of the tears that threatened to overcome his barriers.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
When Faramir opened his eyes, he found himself under several layers of sheets in an unfamiliar room. Alarmed, he tried to sit up, but his head ached, and his shoulder fiercely protested. With a small cry, he lay back down again. Where am I? Where is Boromir? Almost in answer to his thoughts, Boromir's face appeared.  
  
"Faramir! You are awake!" He grinned. "How are you? How do you feel?"  
  
Faramir spoke slowly. "I'm all right. I feel tired, and I hurt a little, but I'm all right." He paused. "Where am I?"  
  
"The Houses of Healing. I brought you here, remember? After you fell?"  
  
"Fell?" For a moment he was confused. Then he recalled the lie that he told Boromir, and knew to play along. "Oh - you mean down the stairs? Yes, I remember."  
  
"Good."  
  
Faramir asked a question that he was almost too frightened to. "Boromir - where is Father?"  
  
He could see that Boromir answered uneasily, and knew that he was lying. "He was here a little while ago, but had to leave. I'm sure he'll be back later."  
  
"Oh," he replied softly. [So he has not been to see me. I shouldn't have hoped that he had - he has more important things to do anyway.] He tried to sit up again. Boromir eased him back down to the bed.  
  
"No, Brother, you must rest. I don't want you to re-injure yourself." He paused. "You look tired - do you want to sleep? I shouldn't have talked to you this long anyway. The healers said not to, but I couldn't resist."  
  
"Please keep talking - tell me what happened."  
  
"Well," he started. He glanced over his shoulder. "All right, I'll tell you. But if anyone asks, it wasn't me. Promise?" Faramir nodded his head solemnly, despite the ache. "When I brought you here, they were all worried, because you weren't waking up. You injured yourself pretty badly, you know. You have a small concussion, actually, they say. And you dislocated your shoulder." Faramir's eyes widened in alarm. Boromir laughed. "Don't worry - you'll be fine. For a while they thought you even fractured your skull, because your head was bleeding, but you didn't, thank the Valar."  
  
Faramir was becoming drowsy, despite all his efforts to stay awake. "I'm tiring you, aren't I?" Boromir asked. "Get some rest." He kissed his brother's forehead affectionately. "I was really frightened for a while, you know - I almost thought I had lost you." Faramir looked at Boromir, and then closed his eyes.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir was almost at his old rooms. They weren't far, but he a sudden headache washed over him, and he was forced to stop, and lean on the wall. The pain seemed to radiate from where he had hit his head before. Nevertheless, after the pain subsided, he continued walking, anxious for privacy.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Captain Faramir?" Mablung's voice echoed behind him. "Captain?"  
  
Faramir turned wearily. "Yes, Mablung?"  
  
"You must rest - you're no use if you're asleep on your feet."  
  
"I will not leave him." He looked pleadingly at his friend. "Let me stay?"  
  
"I have no power to order you to go. But if you are intent on staying, then I will not hinder it."  
  
"Thank you, Mablung."  
  
"Faramir - he will be all right. Trust in that." Mablung's footsteps echoed away. He knew that he should believe it, but somehow, he didn't think that everything would be okay. Boromir looked so frail and pale, and he lay so still on the pallet. The image of his brother was burned in his mind: Boromir, rallying the troops; Boromir turning to check on Faramir; the arrow flying towards his brother; shouting to warn Boromir, but not in time; his brother, laying facedown, with an arrow in his back. He had run to him, he remembered. Boromir's eyes had been open, and had looked at him painfully, and then had closed.  
  
[I never thought I'd be spending Midwinter in the Houses of Healing again.] It had been what - 15 years? The time had seemed to fly, except now Faramir was playing the role of worried brother. His brother's breath seemed to quicken suddenly. Faramir leaned in closer. Boromir opened his eyes suddenly. "Faramir, you are here," he whispered.  
  
"I'll always be here," Faramir replied. "And so will you."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The headache passed, leaving as suddenly as it had come. Faramir stood uncertainly, his breath ragged, his knees unsteady. He began walking again, but more slowly, hoping that he would be better. A voice sounded behind him, and he was forced to stop, and turn around, even though he didn't think he was ready enough for a conversation. "Legolas, how are you?"  
  
The Elf looked worried. "I'm fine - I'm more worried about you, though."  
  
Faramir averted his eyes. "Why would you be worried about me?"  
  
"I heard your fight with Aragorn. I'm sorry - I couldn't help it. He didn't mean what he said, you know. Aragorn's under a lot of pressure right now - he has to get used to many new things. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you." Legolas paused for a moment, searching through Faramir. "You're not angry?"  
  
"No, I am not. I just -" The headache returned, in full fury. The pain radiated from his left forehead, and he rubbed the area, in a vain attempt to dull the throbbing. Faramir couldn't move or speak, and he just sank to his knees. Legolas kneeled beside him.  
  
"Faramir, what's wrong?" The voice seemed to echo in his mind. "Faramir?"  
  
The pain stopped suddenly. He stood up. "I'm sorry, I just had a bit of a headache."  
  
"You never have headaches, Faramir. What is wrong?" He refused to answer. [Legolas has more important things to do, than worry about me.] "Do you want to go back to your rooms?"  
  
"That's where I was heading."  
  
"I will go with you."  
  
"No -"  
  
"You can't stop me. You forget that I am a stubborn Elf." Faramir smiled. "Good," Legolas said. Faramir began walking towards his old rooms, forgetting the entire incident with Aragorn. Legolas stood uncertainly in the hall. "You're - Faramir - you're going the wrong way." Realization dawned on him, and he turned around. He felt his cheeks flush.  
  
"I'm sorry - I completely forgot." Legolas nodded. Suddenly, he ran over to Faramir.  
  
"You are bleeding?"  
  
"What?" Legolas pointed at his forehead. Faramir pushed his hair back, and wiped his hands over the area. Sure enough, there was blood there - and what's more, it had trickled down his face, and he had not even noticed. [I must have cut myself when I hit my head.] He muttered to himself. "I have to go get a bandage -"  
  
"I will go with you," Legolas said firmly. "No wonder you have a headache. Where did you get that?" he asked, with a hint of worry.  
  
"I fell down the stairs in the Steward's rooms. I hit my head then, I think." Faramir looked down at his feet, as they made their way out of the Palace. What must he think of me?  
  
"And that's why you never came to the meeting." Faramir nodded his head, but still refused to look up. "Why didn't you tell Aragorn that? He wouldn't have been angry then, you know."  
  
"Did he give me an opportunity?" Faramir asked bitterly. "I tried, but he cut me off, until eventually I forgot to even mention it."  
  
"You shouldn't feel badly about all of this," Legolas said gently, reading Faramir's actions like a book. "A fall can happen to anyone. No one will mind about this." Faramir nodded again, but unconvincingly. They walked in silence to the healers. 


	6. Memories of a Missing Family

Disclaimer: Faramir the Great does not belong to me. Nothing belongs to me. (Except my eternal love for Faramir.)  
  
This chapter is sort of filler-ish, and sort of helps explain something later. No real plot movement here, so sorry. I'm hoping that I can update a chapter a day, but I'm not sure, since I only have one more already written after this. Still, I'm working on it. After all, what else is Latin class for? *teehee* *looks over shoulder* I didn't just say that. *prints out Pliny translation* *whistles* Yes. It's good to take Latin.  
  
ANYWAY - I just want to respond to my reviewers now. Lalala. I so enjoy this. I suppose I should warn you - these responses are getting to be pretty long, but I feel thus: if someone takes the time to review while I'm still working, I should at least take the time to write a decent response. So - here they are. And I promise you: if you review before the story is finished (because of those new regulations that chapters can't be responses to reviewers, I can't respond after *cry*), then you will get a nice pretty paragraph too!!  
  
Frodo16424: My second repeat-reviewer!! *hug* *hands you a box of chocolate- covered cherries* Yes, it's good to have those oh-so-perceptive elves around. I like Legolas a lot, although, I must say, I could never be insane over him. *blocks the stones thrown at me* Sorry. Anyway. Yes - Faramir has tons of memories. It only seems right that he would though, since so much stuff happens in his life. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Yay!! Thanks so much for reviewing again!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Blue Iris: You reviewed!! *hug* Glad you liked the Aragorn explanation. You make a GREAT point - I had never really thought about Dunedain customs being different. I definitely see Minas Tirith as a salad bowl, if not a melting pot. After all, they have been around in the world for a pretty long time, and not hidden, like Rivendell or Lothlorien. And they have those treaties with places like Rohan, and fiefs like Dol Amroth and Lossarnach and such. When some time comes around (this weekend?) then I will DEFINITELY check out your stories. I love reading other people's, and I look forward to yours!! Thanks again for reviewing!!  
  
Myfanwy: THANKS SO MUCH!! *hug* You're so kind!! I'm so happy that you like the story. Do you know, I actually blushed when reading your review? I'm just glad to get anyone to review; thanks so much for thinking highly of me. Yay!! As I said before, I like updating as much as possible. Believe me, there's NOTHING worse than waiting months for a chapter to come along. I've been reading fanfics for a while before I actually started writing my own, and there are some I'm still waiting for from January. Arg. Now THAT'S what I call frustration. I'm glad to know that there's something to brighten your evenings!! Just kidding. *hug* Thanks SO much again for reviewing!! *hug again* THANKS AGAIN!!  
  
Always-a-kiwi: *hug* Yay!! A reviewer!! Thanks so much!! I'm glad you like the story. It was so nice of you to give me a thumbs-up!! As for Faramir being the coolest - did you even need to ask? All my friends are Legolas fans (except for one die-hard Imrahil), so I constantly need to fend off any other claims for "Coolest of All Time". But I always do. *sighs sweetly* How easy it is to say that Faramir is the best!! Thanks a bundle for reviewing!!  
  
Elektra12: *hug* I was very pleased to dedicate a chapter to you. I was even more pleased to see you review for the THIRD time!! *touched* It's so nice of you!! *hug again* I'm glad you agreed with the Aragorn reasoning. Approval makes my heart swell!! Also - I'm glad you thought that Aragorn might mistake Faramir's actions - that was what I was going for. I'm getting through!! Yay!! Thanks again for reviewing!! *hug* YAY!!  
  
Reba: Thanks for reviewing!! *hug* Yes - angst can be very, um, angsty. I think you can tell what I mean. But - since I'm so pathetic - if it mentions Faramir, chances are that I will read it. But I can definitely see your point. Sometimes I start crying, and then memum asks me what's wrong - and I'm left with the excuse of a sad fanfic. Oh, the troubles of this life!! *teehee* I'm so glad that you overcame your un-angstiness and read this!! Thanks so much for thinking of this as good angst. I'm also glad that you're not an Aragorn-worshiper. I think he's a great guy, but you're right: the man has some character flaws. I'm glad you like this Aragorn here *pulls him over* Say hi, Aragorn. *teehee* Anyway, thanks for reviewing!! I hope you keep reading!!  
  
LeeAnn: Yay!! *hug* My third repeat-reviewer!! *hug again* *hands you a box of caramels* I'm glad you're reviewing again!! *pleased* Yes, I don't think I would ever want to be alone around the holidays. My family is pretty small, but I don't think I could ever imagine having NO family around whatsoever. If I were Faramir, I'd DEFINITELY be depressed too. Even though Denethor wasn't the most Tiny Tim-like of the crew, at least he was there. And since Faramir and Boromir were so close, he must be missing his brother terribly. *sigh* Poor Faramir is right. As for Eowyn - I said somewhere (chapter 3?) that Faramir was going to Rohan soon. That's not part of this story, but - SPOILER - it may - um - 'hinder' her arrival. Also - it must be cold in Rohan, and it is a six day's journey from Edoras, so - um - yah. *cough* *cough cough* Yah. Anyway - THANKS FOR REVIEWING AGAIN!! *hug*  
  
This chapter is dedicated to my second and third repeat-reviewers, Frodo16424 and LeeAnn. Thanks!! *group hug*  
  
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Chapter Six: Memories of a Missing Family  
  
"You've given yourself a rather bad lump, my lord, but nothing more serious," the healer pronounced. "However, I think it best that you sleep here in the Houses tonight - just to make sure."  
  
Faramir smiled. [At least I won't have to spend the night in the Steward's rooms. This is lucky.] "Very well," he agreed. "Just let me get a few things, and tell Beregond."  
  
Legolas cut in. "There's no need, Faramir. I can give a list of things to Beregond, and he can come over with them, if you like."  
  
"Thank you, Legolas. I'm very appreciative." Faramir quickly wrote out a list, and handed it to the Elf. "Beregond will doubtless be in the Steward's apartments now, so you won't have to go far." Legolas bid Faramir a good rest, and left the Houses, making his way back to the palace.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Faramir lay down to rest early that night. Beregond had come to the Houses, and refused to leave until he was certain Faramir was asleep. So Faramir went to bed early, and pretended to be asleep, in order to give Beregond a rest himself. The bell tower, however, chimed midnight, and Faramir was still awake. He kept thinking about Boromir. [It all seems so strange - he has always been with me on Midwinter. This is the first year I haven't seen him.] Faramir sighed quietly. [No, that's not true. He wasn't here last year, either.]  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Faramir sat silently at the table, while Denethor ate slowly. He had been offered no food, and, knowing it would be impolite, had asked for none. So, silent he sat, as Denethor made his way through a warm pile of vegetables. Eventually, Denethor set his plate aside.  
  
"I wish to speak with you, about your men in Ithilien," he began. Faramir lifted guarded eyes to his father. "Your losses are heavy, and you serve little or no purpose there, as seen by the fall of the eastern half of Osgiliath."  
  
"My lord, with all due respect - "  
  
Denethor held up his hand to silence him. "I have not given you leave to speak." He paused. "I have decided to terminate the Ithilien company."  
  
Faramir was in shock. "You will have no defense against the Orcs and Haradrim! The Shadow will be able to gather armies unhindered! Compared to the losses of the other companies, ours are minimal."  
  
"Yes, because you hide in the bushes, instead of fighting. Many of those men would be better employed in other companies, where their skill can be properly used."  
  
Faramir knew that he shouldn't argue, but his duty to his own men, and to ensuring the safety of Gondor, bid him speak. "My Lord, their skill comes from being in Ithilien. Even beyond that, separating the men would be detrimental to their morale. The Rangers are an integral part of Gondor's defense, They serve as both soldiers and scouts, fighting, but with an eye to the west, to Minas Tirith, Without them, there is nothing between Minas Tirith and Mordor to halt, or at least slow, the Enemy."  
  
Denethor scowled. [He knows that he is wrong, but does not want to admit it. May his pride not overshadow his reason!] Faramir prayed silently to himself that Denethor would not disband the Rangers out of spite for his son, their Captain. After an agonizing length of time, the Steward answered.  
  
"We will not make such decisions without your brother, the Captain-General. He should have returned by now, but I am loathe to act without his advice." Faramir nodded. [If] - he corrected himself. [When Boromir returns, he will not disband the Rangers. He knows the military benefits, and how much the Rangers mean to me. A selfish thought, but a true one. He will not let Father disband us.] "When Boromir returns, I wish to make a complete reassessment of our forces. We will then decide the fate of the Rangers."  
  
Again, Faramir nodded. [Should I tell him what I have foreseen? Or has he seen it himself? Should I tell him that I have dreamt of Boromir's death?] One look at his father, with the faraway look in his eyes, told him not to. [He has such hopes - losing Boromir would break his heart. I could not tell him, even if it were the right thing to do.] He sighed.  
  
Denethor heard him. "I am not boring you, am I, my Lord Faramir? Or do you wish to usurp your brother's authority, to ensure your own position as Captain of the Rangers? Do not think that I do not see through you. You only wish to keep the Ithilien company so that you will be its Captain."  
  
"You are wrong, my Lord," Faramir responded, as calmly as he could manage. "I seek only Gondor's safety. I have no wish to be in my brother's place."  
  
"That just shows your weakness and your lack of dignity. Your brother holds a high position, one that any loyal man of Gondor should wish to hold," Denethor said, voice and temper rising.  
  
"If I were in Boromir's position, I would take on his duties. However, you accused me of trying to take over duties and privileges of Boromir, and it is those that I do not desire for myself," Faramir tried to explain. [This is pointless - he's not going to listen anyway.]  
  
"Do not try to twist your words to sound better. I know your true meaning, and I will mark it well, and bear that in mind." Denethor scowled, then waved his hand. "Leave me."  
  
Faramir stood, bowed dutifully, and left the hall.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir turned over onto his side. [Why did things always have to be that way? If only he had listened to me, just once in a while, things would have been so different.] Faramir turned his thoughts back to his Father. [Things were always better when Boromir was around.]  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The servants all rushed quietly in and out of the Steward's chambers, serving the family seated at the table. The Steward was not usually festive on Midwinter, but this year was different. It was the year in which Boromir had been given his first rank in the Army, only a few weeks previous, and the celebrations had been postponed to Midwinter. Denethor was sitting at the head of the table, silent, until at last the servants left the room.  
  
"First of all, I would like to take this opportunity to say how proud I am of Boromir." Denethor turned to the young man, who smiled at him. "Boromir, you will be a great warrior one day, and you will be the saviour of our people. The children of your children will look back in pride at you, and at this day, as the beginning of a new era in the history of Gondor."  
  
Boromir nodded his head in respect. "Thank you, Father."  
  
"Secondly, I would like to give you this." Denethor rose from his seat, and lifted the sword box from the table on which it had rested. Boromir stood, and bowed graciously, but his solemn actions were spoiled by the grin on his face. Taking the sword box in his hands, he opened it, wonder spreading into his eyes.  
  
"This is too grand for me," he said. Lifting it from the box, he ran his hand up and down the scabbard, his hand finally resting on the jewel- studded hilt. Denethor stood proudly off to the side, watching as his son pulled the sword from its casing.  
  
"It is not grand enough, for the man who will be Steward," he replied. He turned to Faramir, who sat at the table still, watching the moment unfold. He was truly glad for his brother, but found himself feeling out of place, as Boromir and Denethor shared a close moment. "I hope you will take note of this, Faramir," his father said more sternly. Boromir turned around to look at his brother, the smile leaving his face slightly. "This is the day that your brother takes command of his first official post as a commander. You should look at his example, to see what you are aiming for." Faramir felt himself smile weakly. [I wish to be myself, not Boromir. But he will never listen.] "Look to your brother. He has all the qualities of a Steward: a commitment to duty and tradition, but he fights better than any for his country." Denethor turned back to Boromir. "My sons, you must never forget: duty, above all. Come what may, your duty to me and to your country come first. Gondor's traditions are what make us what we are, and we must always abide by them." 


	7. Apologies

Disclaimer: Faramir, and all other animals, vegetables, and minerals included in this are not mine. No animals were harmed in the making of this story. (Except my stuffed bunny. just kidding. *teehee*)  
  
Yay!! Aragorn and Faramir make up. Midwinter is starting to get happier.  
  
Frodo16424: Yay!! You reviewed again!! You warm my heart. Thanks a bundle!! Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with you - most people would become very bitter. But not Faramir!! Even in RotK, he's still loyal and forgiving, even though his father is cruel. Also - I based Denethor's "traditions" spiel on "The Pyre of Denethor". He seems to have been steeped in tradition - the tradition of the Stewards. He says that he would have things as they were: leaving the Steward's seat to his son, keeping the "throne" in their power, etc. It just seems to me that he would be one of those who stresses tradition very strongly. Personally, I agree with you, not Denethor, but there's precious little I agree with him about anyway. Thanks for reviewing, and when I get the chance - this weekend - I will pop by and read ALL your fanfics!! YAY!! THANKS AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
LeeAnn: Yay!! You reviewed again too!! *capers* Lalala!! Anyway - I'm glad you like caramels. I love them too. Oftentimes, I've thought about exactly what role Beregond would play in Faramir's post-War of the Ring life. Sure, he's Captain of his Guard, but still - what exactly does that entail? And he does have a family - Bergil, a possible wife (or she could be deceased), and Bergil mentions that his "grandsire" lives in Lossarnach. But I figured I'd just throw him in there for good measure. As for sequels, I had plans for a one-chapter story about Eowyn (in Rohan) opening Faramir's Midwinter gifts to her. But actually, your idea for a sequel about his trip to Rohan is a great idea!! I think I'll take you up on that, if you don't mind. Of course, I'd need a plot, but I could come up with something. Naturally, suggestions would be very much appreciated. As for more, here ye go. THANKS FOR REVIEWING AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
YAY FOR EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!! I just want to take this opportunity to beg everyone to review again. Am I pathetic about this? Yes. But the truth of it all is that your reviews make me do three things: (1) Continue the story. I doubt I would have without you. *hug* (2) Plan for new stories, as evidenced by LeeAnn's suggestion. (3) Try to improve myself.  
  
I couldn't think of a very good name for this chapter, so for that, I apologize.  
  
_____________________  
  
Chapter 7: Apologies  
  
Aragorn went looking for Faramir early that morning. His conscience had been eating at him all last night. [How could I have been so stupid? I wasn't even letting him defend himself. I have to find a way to make it up to him.] Legolas had told Aragorn last night the reason for Faramir's absence, and it had only added to his guilt.  
  
Aragorn reached the door to the Steward's rooms, feeling a fresh pang of guilt. [And I even made him move in here, knowing he didn't want to. I have been horrible to him lately.] He knocked on the door, but he received no answer. [Strange, I thought at least Beregond would be here.] He opened the door, and peeked in. Seeing no one, he entered the room, and closed the door behind him. [I'll just wait for him here. I suppose he's still at the Houses of Healing.] Aragorn looked around for a seat, but he didn't see anything. Furniture was piled in the middle of the room. He recognized most of it as Faramir's, and then remembered how he had never ordered the servants to organize the rooms. [I suppose almost everything here was Denethor's. Faramir probably hasn't had a chance to clean it out yet.]  
  
He looked around for something to occupy himself while waiting for Faramir. His eyes fell on a book, its binding completely ripped off, and the pages in a pile. [Faramir never leaves anything in a mess. What is this?] He walked over and picked up the book. Opening what was left of the cover, Aragorn read the dedication, handwritten, written on the title page. 'To my beloved son Faramir, on the occasion of Midwinter, in the year 2989.' Aragorn stared down at the page. [What had he said, when his room was cleared out? 'One of my most cherished possessions has been destroyed.' And this must be it.] Aragorn looked at the book in his hands. [This must have happened when they were moving all his things.] He felt the guilt swarm around him. [This is all my fault. None but mine. I can't believe I let this happen. No wonder why Faramir was so angry. He has every right to be.]  
  
[I have to think of some way to make it up to him.] Aragorn cleared off a chair, and sat down, the book still in his hands. The binding had already been weak for some time it appeared, probably from overuse. The pages were yellowing, and slightly bent, but otherwise, it had been in perfect condition. [I wish I could make things right.] Suddenly, the idea hit him. Standing up, he left the room as quickly as he could, book in hand and smile on face.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
A few minutes later, Faramir walked into his rooms with Beregond at his side. Stepping over a pile of books, he made his way over to the windows, where he had left one of his files that he needed for the day. Even though most of the citizens of Minas Tirith were beginning the celebrations, Faramir was still hard at work. But he was used to doing paperwork, since Boromir used to sometimes ask him for help. [Boromir was always doing this sort of thing when he was stuck in the city,] Faramir remembered with a laugh. [I remember the first time he asked me to do it for him -he sounded as though he wanted me to write an essay on history, instead of help out with ordering the restocking of the kitchens!]  
  
"Beregond, I'm off to my study. I'll see you later."  
  
"Are you sure you're well enough, Captain?"  
  
Faramir laughed. "I'm quite well, thank you. Only my pride has been hurt, and that's repairable."  
  
Faramir passed by a bookshelf on his way back to the door. Turning around slightly, he was suddenly alarmed. "Beregond - the book that was here - where is it?"  
  
"I haven't seen it, Captain. Not since you put it there. Are you sure that you haven't moved it?"  
  
"No, I'm positive. I left it right here." Faramir pointed at the spot, concern on his face. "I wonder where it could have gotten to. Do me a favour, Beregond - help me look."  
  
The two made a quick search of the room, but found nothing. "It's not here, Captain. Neither of us have been through these rooms very much, and I'm sure that it would be on top." Faramir nodded numbly. "Don't worry, it'll show up eventually."  
  
Faramir gave a heavy sigh. "I'm going to my study, then, Beregond. If you see it around, anywhere, come find me at once." Beregond agreed, and Faramir, with one last look behind him, left the room.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Faramir found Aragorn waiting for him in the study. [I hope he's still not angry from yesterday.] "Faramir?" Aragorn asked tentatively. "Can we talk?"  
  
Faramir couldn't make himself angry with Aragorn. "Yes, of course. What on?"  
  
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I acted terribly, and I want you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Aragorn looked at the bandage on the Steward's head.  
  
"There's really no need to apologize. I'm sorry I missed the meeting, and I promise it won't happen again." He sounded, even to himself, like an apologetic schoolboy, but he found himself not caring. [It needs to be said, anyway.]  
  
"There's no need for you to apologize at all, Faramir. I feel just horribly. I should have listened to you - you were trying to tell me what happened, and I just kept cutting you off."  
  
"Really, Aragorn -"  
  
"Please, don't feel badly. What I really want is to forget the whole incident, and just pretend it never happened. Agreed?" Aragorn held out his hand.  
  
Faramir grasped the outstretched hand, and shook it firmly. "Agreed."  
  
"And you are to not do any work today, or until Midwinter is over. I'm not, and I would be embarrassed if my Steward was hard at work while I was feasting."  
  
Faramir smiled at the blackmail. "So this way you prevent me from doing my duties?"  
  
"Well - yes. But it worked, you must say that." They laughed.  
  
"There's another thing I'd like you to do." Faramir looked at him. "On Midwinter, I understand that the Steward had a private party for his family and closest friends, which lasted through the night and into morning. Are you holding this party?" Faramir shook his head. [I could never throw such a party - besides, it was more of a matter of state. The Steward had no friends.] "Well, then the tradition must be passed to the King. I would like you to come."  
  
Faramir stood in a state of shock. [Why does he want me there? For show? I won't be there only to please some of the nobles.] "I couldn't - it's for friends, not nobles. Granted, it had been turned into a political gathering, but still - the King's friends should be there."  
  
Aragorn looked worried, and a bit upset. "That is why I asked you - I consider you my friend. Are you mine?"  
  
Faramir answered honestly. "Yes, but I never thought that you wished to be mine. May I speak plainly?"  
  
"I wish you would speak plainly more often."  
  
"We never see each other, except whenever we're working. And -" Faramir paused, reconsidering his words. At Aragorn's prompting, he continued. "And when you're with Legolas and Gimli, I feel as though I'm just in the way."  
  
"You shouldn't," Aragorn said, unease in his voice.  
  
"Well, I do. And you shouldn't feel badly about that, either," Faramir wisely responded. "I have no problems at all. I'm just saying that I don't know if you'd want me at your Midwinter party."  
  
"Faramir, I want you there, as my friend. Will you come?"  
  
Faramir gave a small smile. "Yes, I will. Thank you." 


	8. Reasons Explained

Disclaimer: Faramir is not mine, nor is anything else in the story. (Though he did give me presents.)  
  
YAY!! I did see RotK!! I just want to say it is AWESOME except for one thing - there's not enough of the Captain of the Rangers!! I think Peter Jackson should make a movie about Faramir. Actually, after the movie, I was so emotionally drained (I'm a BIG cryer in movies), that I passed out on the couch (in a swoon over Faramir, of course), and fell asleep. By the time I had woken up and finished this chapter, FanFiction.net was down!! Arg!! Bad timing. So I apologize that this wasn't up yesterday. But that's okay. It's here now!!  
  
In this chapter, there is the tiniest bit of tiny Sindarin. Much as I'd love to know the language, I don't have a clue. I actually got this from elvish.org's soundtrack analysis translation. I put the Sindarin {in these}. But the translation of it is in the actual story, so there won't be one at the top or bottom. Just telling you. If anyone can tell me if this is actually what I think it means, I would GREATLY appreciate it. Learning Sindarin is one of those things you put on your New Year's resolutions page, but never do.  
  
Frodo16424: *hug* *hug again* You reviewed again!! *gives you a Faramir action figure* Blackmail? What blackmail? *smiles innocently* *whistles* Well - Faramir seems like the type who would do what he's supposed to do first. I figured he needed a break. We don't want him turning into a Midwinter Scrooge, now do we? Besides, I agree with you - a little eggnog and some pheasant can't do the guy any harm. But Faramir definitely needs friends. I can't imagine he had any before the War - so much other stuff going on, and Denethor probably let him have any anyway. Boromir, I think, was the closest to a friend he probably ever had. THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING AGAIN!! *hug*  
  
Myfanwy: *hug* *hug again* You are now a repeat-reviewer!! *hands you a box of chocolate-covered almonds* I forgot to mention in my last response that I was reading your stories this weekend too. Sorry about that!! Thanks for the review!! I'm glad you think I deserve blushing. *teehee* Glad you like my angst. There's more angst in this chapter (I think). I have a hard time classifying what's angst and what isn't. But I'll try. The story is starting to come to a close, though, so the angst level will be lowering. THANKS AGAIN!! I'm so glad you reviewed!! *ahem* Yo! Fanfic site! Cut the bling-bling and load Chapter 7! There. I told them. *teehee* THANKS!! *hug*  
  
Always-a-kiwi: You're a repeat reviewer!! *hug* *hug again* *hands you a box of chocolate cookies* Hope you enjoy them. Anyway!! THANKS!! I'm glad you liked Faramir and Aragorn's way of making up. I didn't want it to be TOO mushy, but I thought some fluff thrown in wouldn't be bad. Yes - I am planning to write more, specifically about Faramir's trip to Rohan. I need a plot, but I do want to make it full of angst. But I hope it's believable angst. ANYWAY - thanks for the encouragement. It means a lot to me. THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Elektra12: Yay!! You reviewed again!! I did miss you, but don't feel badly. *hug* *hands you a Faramir action figure* Enjoy!! Yupyup - Denethor is a MAJOR hypocrite. I'm thinking that Aragorn's conscience will be clearer after they made up, but I also think that he'll feel better after the party. And yes - I saw RotK. Every time Faramir came on the screen I started sobbing. I cry a lot in movies. My friends gave me sympathetic looks. *teehee* But secretly they know I'm just weird. Lalala. But there were two really bad parts - when Faramir got tears in his eyes when Denethor sent him away, and when his horse dragged him back. I squealed, much to the chagrin of the people in front of me. I missed most of the Pyre of Denethor though, because I lost my tissues, and so did all of my friends. NOT GOOD!! *teehee* THANKS FOR REVIEWING AGAIN!!  
  
Angel: *hug* *hug again* You reviewed again!! *hands you a box of chocolate- covered strawberries* Thanks!! I'm happy that you still read on, despite the evil-Denethor-ness. I'm glad you like the story!! YAY!! Thanks for saying that I'm doing well - it certainly makes me feel better!! THANKS AGAIN FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Reba: REPEAT-REVIEWER ALERT!! *hug* *hug again* *hands you a box of pralines* Yay!! I'm glad you like the Rohan idea. I'll probably get writing soon, but I may not post it for a week, so that I can get a chance to go ahead. That way I can post faster for all of you. *dances funky chikin dance with you* *gets Faramir to join us* YAY!! Funfun!! *teehee* Doubtless a Faramir/Eowyn story will be coming - this Rohan one, most likely - but quite frankly, I'm a little frightened of how to write her. She just seems SO complex. But I'll certainly give it a whirl. As for the candy and chocolate Faramir - thanks!! My friends have promised to kidnap Faramir, and mail him to me this break!! I can give him the chocolate-Faramir to eat. THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
LeeAnn: *hug* You reviewed again!! *hands you a Faramir action figure* Yupyup - seems as though everyone else likes your idea, too!! I will definitely take you up on that. I still need a plot. But I think there will be lots of angst in it. Mayhap remembering Boromir, as he thinks about Eowyn and Eomer? Or maybe he gets into bad dreams again? I don't know. I'll come up with something. BTW - there's more Beregond in this chapter. And I think they're friendlier. So that should make you happy. *hug* THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug again*  
  
That took an extremely long amount of time, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I hope you all like this chapter!! The timing in the story may be off by now - I don't remember how many days ago that it was a week 'til Midwinter. But from now on, it should be pretty clear, when Midwinter's Eve comes along. That'll probably be next chapter.  
  
________________  
  
Chapter 8: Reasons Explained  
  
Evening saw Faramir back in the Steward's rooms, searching for the missing book. He and Beregond had already gone through them twice, but Faramir couldn't rest until the book was found. He was kicking himself for not keeping track of his things better. He sat down in a chair for a moment, and closed his eyes.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"{Cuiva! Tiro!}" Faramir shook his elder brother, and pointed at the window.  
  
"Faramir," his brother answered drowsily. "Speak so that I can understand you." He rolled over on the couch.  
  
"I said, 'Wake up! Look!' And I said that because it's snowing outside!" Faramir responded excitedly. Boromir got up and ran over to the window. "See? I told you."  
  
"It is snowing," he said.  
  
"I already told you that."  
  
"It hasn't snowed for three years, you know. I can't believe this! How lucky!" He turned to his younger brother. "Let's go ask if we can go outside to play."  
  
Faramir beamed. "Have you finished your nap?" he teased.  
  
"Little brother, you should know by now that all warriors need their strength more than anything. I was merely storing strength," Boromir said loftily.  
  
"Warriors need to be clever too, so that they can plan their battles. One hundred warriors strolling around looking for Orcs would be killed as fast as that -" he snapped his fingers "- no matter how well they fight."  
  
"Well, I should have no problem with cleverness," Boromir said proudly. "I can just take you along in my knapsack, and pull you out anytime I discuss military strategy." The pair chuckled, as Boromir walked over to a nearby table, picking up a book. "I wonder how you can even understand this - Father must have known that you had a talent for languages. You practically taught Sindarin to yourself."  
  
Faramir blushed slightly. "No - Mithrandir helped me when he was here."  
  
"You're too modest, Faramir. Here," he gave Faramir the book. "Keep it safe. It's the only book in the City about Sindarin itself, instead of being written in Sindarin."  
  
"I will always keep it safe," Faramir said softly, running his hand across the dedication on the title page. "It is special."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir gave a heavy sigh, trying to disperse the memory. [What did I do with that book? I could have sworn it was here.] He had just started searching his memory for the umpteenth time when a soft knock sounded on the door. "Come," he said.  
  
Legoals opened the door. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said.  
  
Faramir smiled. "Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. I'm quite fine, though."  
  
"No more headaches?"  
  
"None whatever. Thank you for asking," Faramir replied.  
  
"I'm glad." Legolas paused. "What is troubling you, then?"  
  
Faramir was surprised that the Elf could tell. He was trying very hard not to draw attention to himself. "Nothing important," he said quickly. Legolas looked at him intently. "I just lost something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"A book. I thought it was on the shelf, but I can't find it."  
  
Legolas gave a mysterious smile, puzzling Faramir. "I'm sure it will turn up eventually." He changed the subject. "So - Aragorn said you were coming to his Midwinter celebration." Faramir nodded. "I'm glad you are. I was hoping he'd ask you. I'm quite looking forward to it." Faramir smiled, suddenly looking forward to the party himself. "What was it like when your father was Steward?"  
  
Faramir looked at Legolas. [Why does he want to know?] He answered himself. [He does seem genuinely interested.] "It wasn't much of a party," he admitted. "It was more of an official meeting for the nobles. A chance for them to talk about themselves, and gather ammunition for the council debates." They laughed. "I rarely went," he continued.  
  
"Why? Were you not in the City on Midwinter?"  
  
Faramir really didn't want to answer, so he tried a non-answer, hoping he wouldn't have to tell Legolas why he never went. "No, the only time I wasn't in the City was three years ago. There was a band of Orcs in Ithilien, and we had to make sure they did no harm."  
  
"I see. So why did you never go?"  
  
Faramir tried desperately to come up with a good answer.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Faramir!!" He snapped to attention, as his father came into the room. "You are back. I did not expect you for a few days."  
  
"No, our Company came back earlier than expected. The Captain said he'd reported -"  
  
"Obviously he did not." Denethor scowled. "You know that in this year you have been officially declared of age."  
  
"Yes, my Lord." Faramir stood straighter.  
  
"And that you now should participate in the social practices of the Steward."  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
"And that the Midwinter party is just that."  
  
Again, Faramir replied, "Yes, my Lord."  
  
"I do not want you coming. You are to stay out of sight on Midwinter. I do not want to exhibit you to the Council, such a failure after my Boromir."  
  
Faramir's head drooped slightly. "Yes, my Lord."  
  
"Then I will leave you. And mind what I said - I do not want to see you at all on Midwinter." Denethor turned on his heel and left the Hall. [Well,] thought Faramir, in an effort to cheer himself, [at least I don't have to buy any gifts for the Council.] But he could not make himself smile, and so, he went back to his rooms.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir saw no point in lying to Legolas. "My father did not want me to be there."  
  
"Oh," Legolas said, obviously feeling uncomfortable.  
  
"Let's not talk about me. Have you planned your trip to Mirkwood yet?"  
  
"No, not yet. I was hoping to time mine to not coincide with your own trip. Aragorn, I think, can't afford to lose us both at the same time," he said with a laugh. He suddenly turned serious again. "Faramir, I actually had another reason for coming here."  
  
"What is it?" asked Faramir, slightly worried by the Elf's tone.  
  
"I think there's a reason, a real reason, why you don't want to live here in the Steward's rooms. I want to give you the opportunity to tell me." Faramir's eyes narrowed. "Don't take this as an offense - but you really haven't been yourself lately. Is there something else that we should know?"  
  
Faramir was in shock. [Why is he even asking me this?] "Why would you think there is?" He stood up, and walked over to the bookshelf, where his book was supposed to be. [Why can't they just leave me alone? Why must they always ask me such things?]  
  
"Faramir? I don't want to upset you." Faramir gave him a look, telling him that he was. "You need someone to talk to. You can't always keep everything to yourself." Again, he just looked at Legolas. "Please, Faramir." Faramir turned away. "Do you think that Boromir or, or even Denethor, would want to see you unhappy?"  
  
"I am not unhappy."  
  
"You are," he pressed. "And I want to help. Tell me." Faramir shook his head. [I may be acting like a stubborn child, but I don't want to think on this. It will only make me feel any guiltier.] "I'm not leaving until you tell me. We Elves are noted for our stubbornness." He sat deliberately down. Faramir couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"I can see why."  
  
"Well?"  
  
Faramir sighed, and sat next to him. "You will think less of me, but very well." He took a deep breath. "My father raised me to be dutiful, and to follow all of Gondor's traditions. Well, in Gondor, the Steward is not allowed to enter these rooms until after the old Steward, his father, has been buried." His voice shook slightly. Legolas put a supportive arm on his shoulder. "Boromir went out to sea, and you gave him what honours you could, but he has no grave. And Father -" He stopped, unable to continue, resting his head in his hands.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Legolas said. "I didn't know -" He too stopped, not knowing what to say.  
  
Faramir lifted grief-filled eyes. "You could not know. And yes, I should not worry about this, for they are gone, and the tradition means nothing, but I do. I can't help it."  
  
"Faramir," Legolas said firmly, "you have every right to feel the way you do. I will talk to Aragorn for you. Everything will turn out well in the end." 


	9. Midwinter's Eve

Disclaimer: Faramir and all other things in here are not mine.  
  
For lack of anything better, the Gondorians place their presents under trees. It makes no sense, I know, but I wracked my brains for ages trying to come up with something better, but to no avail. Sorry for the un-Middle- Earth-iness of it all.  
  
Yes - I waited another day to update again. Sorry. I plead the excuse of seeing RotK again.  
  
Cariad: *hug* Thanks for the review!! About Aragorn - did you read the response to Grumpy right before Chapter Five? If not, I recommend that you do. It clears up a lot of the Aragorn and Faramir mess. If you already did that, and you still are a bit iffy, try this: Even though Gandalf may have told Aragorn, and Aragorn already knew about Denethor, I'm sure, still - Aragorn has a lot of other things on his mind. He really doesn't know better, I think - it's only been a few months, and Aragorn never saw firsthand exactly how cruel Denethor was. Also, as Blue Iris pointed out, Aragorn has lived with the Dunedain, who have far different morals and such. The Dunedain are hard men, who, I am sure, never had to deal with people like Faramir, who is more sensitive than maybe your average guy. If you still don't like it - sorry. I hope you like the rest of the story anyway!! Maybe this chapter will make you like this Aragorn here *drags him over* better. *teehee* Thanks for the review again!! It's good to hear other opinions as well, and I appreciate it!! THANKS!! *hug*  
  
Always-a-kiwi: YOU REVIEWED AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again* *hands you a Faramir action figure* Enjoy!! Anyway - well - I have Legolas as stubborn, because in FotR, when they're entering Lothlorien, neither Gimli nor Legolas want their eyes bound, and Aragorn says, "A curse on the stiff necks of Elves!" So that's where I got that from. Yes - 11 months is too long. I read somewhere that they filmed Faramir and Eowyn's wedding, which I think would be awesome - but they may not have, and it may not make it to EE anyways. I'm thinking on this being 11 or 12 chapters, depending. THANKS AGAIN FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
LeeAnn: *hug* YOU REVIEWED AGAIN TOO!! *hug again* I'm glad that you liked the explanation. *huggles Faramir* I'll give him any hugs he needs!! *grin* Anyway - I wasn't thinking of having Legolas travel with him - that's why I made up that trip for him to Mirkwood, so that they wouldn't go together. It's hard to have Faramir angst when there's THREE people who care about the guy hanging around - it's going to be hard enough with just Eomer and Eowyn. Glad you're enjoying the action figure. Yes - I too was very impressed with Faramir's sword-fighting skills during those really scary minutes in Osgiliath. I was whimpering!! THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Elektra12: *hug* YOU REVIEWED!! THANKS!! Yes - we now know what's been bugging poor Faramir. It seems to me that if I were him, I'd have more than that bugging me, but oh well. Aww. *huggles him* I think Legolas would be a good friend, because he is so perceptive, and since he's an Elf, he doesn't mind listening to other people. Elves make good buddies. THANKS AGAIN FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Angel: *hug* *hug again* YAY!! You reviewed again!! *hands you a Faramir action figure* Yupyup - the book was given to him by Denethor. In Chapter 7, Aragorn reads the dedication: 'To my beloved son Faramir, on the occasion of Midwinter, in the year 2989'. And remember in Chapter 3, Denethor gives Faramir a book of Sindarin grammar? That's all the same book. Maybe I should have made that clearer. Sorry. So anyway, that makes Denethor warmer there. I'm glad you like my Faramir. *pats him on head* THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Lirenel: *hug* I can't believe - YOU reviewed!! I just want to say that I love all your stories and - and - I love your Faramir - and - and - I think you are awesome - and - and - one of the first fanfics I ever read was "Faramir's Story", and it was one of the fanfics that really got me hooked on fanfics, which eventually led to me writing this!! THANKS SO MUCH!! *faints* Anyway - *hug* sorry. Faramir feels better in this chapter, and it all goes up from here, so Faramir the Great will be perkier soon. Never fear!! I wouldn't leave him in dire straits without the assurance that he'd be happier soon anyways. THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Bex: YAY!! *hug* Thanks for the review!! If you're feeling about Aragorn, try reading the response to Grumpy in front of Chapter 5, and the response to Cariad in this chapter. That may make Aragorn seem better. Also - Aragorn gets nicer and nicer in this chapter too, so all is not lost!! I like Aragorn a lot, so - even though I think he is somewhat flawed (as is Faramir, to be fair) - I would NEVER make him mean. I just think he's a little on the insensitive side. I'm glad you're enjoying the story - it makes me happy-happy!! THANKS!! Yes - I like David Wenham as Faramir a lot - even with the blonde hair. When he started tearing. *cry* *grabs hankie* Anyway. THANKS FOR THE REVIEW!! *hug*  
  
Toria: THANKS SO MUCH!! *hug* I'm glad you like my Faramir. I like him too. And yes - FARAMIR IS THE GREATEST!! HANDS DOWN, NO CONTEST!! *cough* Anyway - thanks for your praise - it was really nice of you to say so. THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug*  
  
_________________________  
  
Chapter 9: Midwinter's Eve  
  
Faramir smiled with satisfaction at the table of presents before him. [At least I'm finished with wrapping everything.] He looked at the sky, noting with pleasure that the hour was still early. In his mind, he double-checked to make sure that all the gifts were here. [Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Beregond.] He looked about suddenly, searching for Eowyn's gifts, before remembering that he had already sent them out, along with those for Eomer, and his uncle, Imrahil.  
  
He then surveyed the rest of the room with his eyes, hoping desperately to see his book, but it was not there. He sighed, then found his boots and pulled them on. Looking again at the sky, he paused for a moment, then left the rooms. [Since I've been so late on the previous appointments with Aragorn, I had best get there a bit earlier today.]  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Boromir and Faramir sat at the table. "Well, little brother, it's almost Midwinter," Boromir said.  
  
"Yes, it is," Faramir responded, as he took another sip of wine. "Shouldn't you be going soon? Father would not be pleased if you are late."  
  
"No - I think my absence can go unnoticed for a little while. The party lasts all day, anyway. Besides, I want to see you too."  
  
Faramir smiled. "I should think you would rather see Lord Pouil. He may try to enlighten you about the history of Midwinter, and such a lecture you cannot afford to miss."  
  
Boromir chuckled. "That's why I enjoy spending time with you. You know just as much as old Pouil any day, but at least you don't try to bore me to death."  
  
"Would you let me try? Something tells me that you would either pour wine on me or box my ears."  
  
"I probably would." The brothers laughed. The bell tower tolled twelve times, as the pair sat in silence listening. When the chimes stopped, Boromir spoke. "Well, since it's officially Midwinter, I can now give you your gift." He stood up.  
  
Faramir stood up as well. "And I can give you yours." They both knelt under the tree, and, shoving a few wrapped packages about, finally emerged with a box each. "Happy Midwinter, Boromir," he said, as he put the package into his brother's arms.  
  
"Happy Midwinter, Faramir," Boromir replied, as he did the same. They walked back to the table, and rested the presents on the top. Then they stared at each other and laughed. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?"  
  
"No, you go first. It's only right," Faramir protested.  
  
"No, Faramir, you should go first. I'm the oldest, so I get to choose."  
  
"No, you're the oldest, so you open yours first."  
  
Boromir sighed. "Why do we always have this problem every year?"  
  
"I suppose it's the excitement of giving," Faramir said.  
  
"I think it's more the anxiety of seeing whether or not we'll like the gift." They laughed. "So," Boromir said. "Open it."  
  
"No - you can." They chuckled. "I have an idea - we'll flip a coin." Faramir produced one. "I'll flip it, and you call it."  
  
"Fair enough," he agreed. As Faramir flipped the coin, he called heads, and the coin landed on it.  
  
"Go ahead," Faramir said with a smirk. Boromir ripped apart the wrapping, and opened the box.  
  
"Faramir, this is too much," he said quietly, as he lifted the gift from the paper. Faramir beamed as Boromir turned them around in his hands. "Faramir," he said again, speechless. In Boromir's hands was a new set of vambraces, embossed with the White Tree. All vambraces worn by Gondorians were decorated so, but these were far more elaborate. The White Tree's branches spread out across the length of the vambrace, and the leather was much more rich and supple.  
  
"May you wear them with pride always and think of me," Faramir said quietly.  
  
"Faramir, this is too much. I can't -" Boromir began.  
  
"You are Gondor's finest. You are the Captain-General. And you are the greatest brother anyone could ask for."  
  
Boromir looked up at Faramir, emotion in his face. "Thank you," he said simply. "And now you must open your gift."  
  
Faramir neatly tore through the packaging, revealing a simple box. He opened it, and moved aside the paper. "Boromir -"  
  
"Now that you're Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, you deserve a cloak to match. The man told me that it was made with dye from plants in Ithilien, so that you could blend in even better."  
  
"I don't deserve -"  
  
"In my mind, you deserve far better. But it's the least I can do."  
  
Faramir lifted his eyes to meet Boromir's. "Thank you." They stood and embraced.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir tugged at the cloak around his shoulders with his fingers, and straightened it out before he knocked on the door to Aragorn's rooms. After being admitted and announced, he entered the dining room. [The decorations here are lovely. They have an Elven touch,] he noted, looking at the tree, which appeared to have been dug out of the ground, so that it could be replaced.  
  
"Faramir! You're a bit early. We weren't expecting you -" Aragorn said, glancing at Legolas.  
  
"I can leave," he offered, turning around.  
  
"No!" Legolas protested. "Maybe it would be better if he were part of this, Aragorn," he said quietly.  
  
"Yes, I think so. Faramir, Legolas told me about your - conversation - yesterday." Faramir steeled himself against Aragorn's anger. "I can only say how deeply sorry I am. I had no idea - I'm not really familiar with a lot of the customs."  
  
Faramir was in shock. "You're not angry with me?"  
  
"Of course I'm not angry with you! Why would you think that?"  
  
Faramir looked down at his feet. "I don't know."  
  
"Well, Legolas has come up with an idea. You say that Boromir and Denethor need burials."  
  
"I never said - that's impossible - there's no way that it could happen."  
  
"Yes, there is. We may not be able to bury them, but we can bury something that belonged to them. The ashes of Rath Dinen were saved. And I have something of Boromir's." Aragorn opened a small wrapping that had been in hands.  
  
"The vambraces! I thought he had lost them, when he wasn't wearing them - when I saw the boat -" Faramir choked out, and ran forward. "I can't believe -"  
  
"I took them," Aragorn admitted. "I wanted something to remember him by. But the City, and you, reminds me of him. If you don't mind of course, these would be perfect."  
  
Faramir nodded his head numbly. "That's - they -" He took them into his own hands.  
  
Aragorn looked at Faramir. "I hope I did not offend you."  
  
"No - not at all. I just - I don't know." His voice trailed off. Faramir looked down at the vambraces, and rubbed his fingers into the familiar grooves. "I gave these to him," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "I told him he was the best brother a man could have. And he was."  
  
"Faramir?" Legolas's voice intruded his thoughts.  
  
"I'm sorry. Yes - these would be perfect." He looked up, faint tears in his eyes.  
  
"Good. I'm glad," Aragorn said. "But there remains another question. Where do you wish them to be buried?"  
  
"Oh - I don't -" Faramir stuttered.  
  
"If you want to think about it for a while, or if you would prefer to have the dwarves rebuild Rath Dinen - just think on it," Aragorn said.  
  
"Thank you. But - the tomb of the Stewards - it would be so long before it could be rebuilt," Faramir replied.  
  
"Can you think of anywhere else suitable?" Legolas prompted.  
  
Faramir turned his eyes to the sunlight streaming through the window. "There is the room in the Memorial Gardens for the War, is there not?"  
  
"Yes," Aragorn answered.  
  
"It may be against tradition, and be disrespectful of the dead, but when the Silent Street is rebuilt, a memorial could be built after," Faramir said slowly. "What think you?"  
  
"It's ultimately your decision, but I think it's a wonderful idea. And I do not think that it is disrespectful at all," Aragorn said.  
  
"Thank you," Faramir replied. "It means a lot to me to know you think so." He fought hard against the tears welling in his eyes.  
  
"I will ask the stone carvers already in the City to create a memorial for the graves. If you can wait a week or so, then they can carve something magnificent. Until then, if you wish, you can stay somewhere else -" Aragorn offered.  
  
"No - there's really no need. I feel better just knowing that they will have a burial." He paused. "Thank you, Aragorn."  
  
"It's the least I can do, Faramir."  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Faramir stayed later than he had thought he would. Beregond was waiting for him when he returned, obviously a little surprised himself that Faramir had stayed so late. "I'm sorry, Beregond," Faramir immediately said. "I really didn't expect to stay that late."  
  
"Not at all, Captain - I was just getting a little worried - you did fall down the stairs only a few days ago," Beregond said.  
  
"Well then, you had best be going, hadn't you?"  
  
"Going where, Captain?"  
  
"Home to your family, Beregond. Surely you're spending tonight and tomorrow with them."  
  
"No - I am here to serve you."  
  
"No - you are Captain of the White Guard - that means you get special privileges from your position. Which means that you are spending this time with your family," Faramir obstinately said.  
  
"Thank you Captain," Beregond said. "Then I will take my leave -"  
  
"Just one more thing." Faramir bent under the tree, and emerged with a flat package. "This is for you, Beregond. Happy Midwinter."  
  
"Captain! I couldn't -" Beregond protested.  
  
"You will," Faramir said. He grinned. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?"  
  
Beregond carefully removed the wrapping paper. "Valar," he breathed, as he lifted from the paper a watercolour of his wife and son. "Captain - this is wonderful," he said. He looked up. "How can I ever repay you?"  
  
"There is one thing you can do," Faramir said mischievously.  
  
"Anything, Captain," Beregond replied readily.  
  
"Call me Faramir. Happy Midwinter, Beregond. Give my regards to Morwen and Bergil."  
  
"I will, Faramir, I will. And thank you." 


	10. Midwinter's Day

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and Faramir (he warrants his own mention) are not mine, *tear*.  
  
Frodo16424: *hug* *hug again* THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! Thanks for the praise on last chapter - it's very sweet of you. *touched* In FotR movie, Aragorn takes Boromir's vambraces, which is why he miraculously has Gondorian vambraces during TTT and RotK. So technically the idea isn't really mine. We can all thank Viggo for that. THANKS AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again* THANKS!! *hug*  
  
Toria: YAY!! *hug* YOU REVIEWED AGAIN!! *hug again* *hands you a box of cream chocolates* Thanks a bundle of thanks!! *grins* Faramir IS sweet, isn't he? Awww. you just have to love him. I'm glad you like the story!! *hug* *hug again* THANKS FOR REVIEWING!!  
  
Reiven: THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again* I liked Boromir a lot too, but I think that Faramir's more the type for me. As for him being human: well, he IS a human, whereas Legolas and Gimli are not. Boromir is a vulnerable character, which makes him believable. But so is Faramir. Faramir's everything that is good!! *teehee* I'm just glad that you like the story - knowing that people like it makes me very pleased with myself!! I've discovered that writing is a major ego boost. THANKS AGAIN!! *hug*  
  
Callie3: *hug* THANKS FOR THE REVIEW!! *hug again* And thanks SO much for putting me on your favourites list. I was so touched. *hug* And telling me that Tolkien couldn't have done better!! *hug* *hug again* You DEFINITELY DESERVE - this!! *hands over a bottle of Schweppes's Lemonade* Drink of the Gods!! Thanks so much!! *blushes* Your review is SO nice!! *hug* Okay, I'll stop now. Anyway - Faramir's leg problems - I actually got that from history. One of the Georgian heirs to the crown - gah - I forgot which - had to wear them. It's just from having weak joints, and that the legs aren't growing straight. Something tells me it was Victoria or Alexandra's kids, but I really don't remember. Sorry!! THANKS AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
ElaineMc: THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* *hug again* Thanks for the praise!! I was pretty worried about character interaction, and hearing from you has helped to stave off some of that. So thanks a bundle!! *hug* THANKS!! *hug again*  
  
LeeAnn: *hug* *hug again* It's so nice of you to keep reviewing!! *touched* I tried to include some Faramir and Beregond stuff just for you, so I'm glad that you liked it!! I miss Boromir as well - he was such a good brother to our Faramir. The book thingy gets settled in this chapter, so feel comforted. THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN AND AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
This is a nice, light, fluffy chapter. Sorry for all the angst-lovers. *opens a bag of white fluffy fake snow* I threw Arwen in here for good measure, but she's a little ditzy. Sorry about that. I tried to come up with a witty repartee for them all, but I think I failed miserably. Something tells me that angst is more my thing. This is the second to last chapter, and the next one's really short, so just telling you now.  
  
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!  
  
HAPPY MIDWINTER!!  
  
__________________  
  
Chapter Ten: Midwinter's Day  
  
Faramir picked up the last of the gifts on the table, and put them into his arms. Most of them were small, except for one very large, flat box that he tucked under his left arm, balancing the other gifts in his right. Hastening to the King's quarters, he was admitted to an empty room, just as he hoped. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he walked quickly over to the tree and piled the boxes under it. Taking a step back, he looked with satisfaction at the gifts, and then left the room.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Faramir knocked on the door to Legolas's apartments. The Elf, dressed in a festive shade of green, answered the door himself. "Happy Midwinter, Legolas," Faramir said.  
  
"And Happy Midwinter to you, Faramir. Are you ready?"  
  
"Aye. Are you?"  
  
"Yes." Legolas closed the door behind him. "It was kind of you to wait for me," he said.  
  
"One good turn deserves another," Faramir replied. "I wanted to thank you, for all that you have done for me these past few weeks."  
  
"No thanks is needed between friends," Legolas answered. Faramir smiled, and they began to walk towards Gimli's rooms. "I wonder if Gimli will be ready - he may still have to spend another hour grooming his beard." They spoke merrily on the way to Gimli's rooms. When they reached the door, Legolas knocked loudly. "Master Dwarf? Are you ready? We are waiting for you."  
  
Gimli emerged almost immediately. "Since when could an Elf be ready before a Dwarf? I thought I should linger here until you were ready, instead of sitting outside your door waiting." He raised his eyebrows at Faramir. "I see you had someone to do that for you," he said, a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"Not at all, Gimli. I was merely passing by, and it occurred to me that Legolas might be ready," Faramir replied loftily. "And, Gimli, we had to come for you - I thought it was the tradition of the Dwarves to always arrive early. Which means that you were taking your own time, and were the latest of all three." A smile betrayed his voice, and Gimli began to laugh.  
  
"I should have known better than to argue with you, Faramir. You know our traditions better than I," Gimli conceded with a chuckle. "Well, shall we be leaving? I am anxious to test the fine wine of your City."  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
"Happy Midwinter," Aragorn rose greeted them all, with Queen Arwen following suit. Faramir, Legolas, and Gimli did the same, and took their seats at the table. The lunch was enjoyable for everyone, though Faramir found himself wishing that Eowyn was sitting at his side. Still, he had resolved not to depress himself, and he was trying earnestly to focus on that thought. [This is a day for celebration, and the last thing I want, or anyone wants, is to be glum.] Eventually, the time came for unwrapping gifts, and the group left the dining room to relax in the living room. Aragorn and Arwen were astonished, when they entered the room, to find everyone's presents piled under the tree.  
  
"How did all of these get to be here?" Aragorn asked Legolas.  
  
"Why are you looking at me?" he responded with a laugh.  
  
Arwen broke in with a smile. "It's always the Elves who pull such tricks. I suspect you too, Legolas. Do you confess?"  
  
"It wasn't me, honestly!" Legolas laughed. "It was Faramir. Gimli and I gave all our presents to him to bring in - he's the only one who can really come and go unannounced. We wanted it to be a surprise." Legolas looked approvingly at the tree. "I must say, Faramir, you did an excellent job."  
  
Faramir gave a mock bow. "Thank you," he giggled. "I tried to incorporate the gifts in such a way that everyone's were fairly represented."  
  
Gimli gave a nod of approval. "That you did, Faramir. However," he grunted, "you displayed the gifts from me that were wrapped most poorly in front."  
  
Aragorn gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, Gimli, that can be amended by distributing the gifts to their rightful owners!" He looked expectantly at the Dwarf. "Well? Do you care to do the honours? You are, after all, the closest to the presents, since you are also the closest to the floor," he said with a wink.  
  
"I would prefer to have Faramir do it - he knows where all the gifts are anyway. He put them there." Aragorn asked Faramir to do so, and he agreed. Faramir knelt under the tree, and passed out the gifts to everyone. To his surprise, there were some boxes left under the tree. [What are these doing here?]  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Faramir?" Boromir asked, as he knelt down on the floor beside his brother. "Faramir? What's wrong?"  
  
Faramir gave a guarded answer. "I have your present here."  
  
"Where is your gift, Faramir? You didn't mention yours."  
  
"I - there are no more."  
  
"But this is Father's tree! It must be here." Boromir wiggled his way under the pine boughs, searching for another wrapped package. "There's nothing else," he said, a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
The younger boy tried to hide his disappointment. "Oh. Well - it doesn't really matter anyway."  
  
Boromir wrapped his arms around his brother. "I'm sure Father just forgot to put your present under the tree," he said confidently.  
  
"Yes, he must have forgotten." Faramir replied, knowing that Denethor had not forgotten anything.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir put an arm out to read the tags on the strange gifts. His eyes widened as he read the labels. [For me? Why would anyone give me a present? I don't understand.] Faramir looked up.  
  
"Don't leave your own gifts under the tree!" Arwen said with a laugh. "Pull them out." Faramir obeyed, surprise on his face.  
  
"Well - in what order should we open them?" Gimli asked.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Ladies first."  
  
Arwen made a face. "I am no lady. I am a she-Elf. But since you offered, I will open mine first." The group sat and joked over each gift, until Faramir's came up. [I hope she likes it,] Faramir thought worriedly. [I think she was the hardest to come up with a gift for.] Arwen gave a squeal of delight, as she lifted two silver goblets, engraved with Elven characters. "These are beautiful! Wherever did you get these?"  
  
Faramir gave a small smile. "I am good friends with a silversmith, and."  
  
"You put me to shame, Faramir," Aragorn laughed. "I should have thought of that."  
  
"Thank you, Faramir. And that's all for me," she said. "Since I am finished, I get to decide who opens their gifts next. I choose Gimli."  
  
Gimli progressed through his stack. Upon reaching Faramir, he gave a laugh. "I hope you didn't get me Elven goblets," he said.  
  
"Valar forbid it," Faramir said, pretending to be serious.  
  
"Well, here goes," Gimli said, as he ripped open the paper. Faramir cringed. [And I spent so much time wrapping that too.] "Well, I'll be -" he said, holding up the gift.  
  
Aragorn laughed. "A pipe and a stash of Old Toby? Faramir, that's priceless!"  
  
"I still hadn't gotten any replacement pipe. But how did you come by the weed?" he asked, sniffing it to check for freshness.  
  
"I merely asked Merry and Pippin to send some along," Faramir shrugged. "And pipes are common enough."  
  
"Well, I know what I will be doing tonight," Gimli said.  
  
"Drinking Aragorn's wine?" Legolas quipped.  
  
Gimli gave a little snarl. "No, that is what you will be doing. I will be calmly smoking my pipe-weed."  
  
When Gimli had finished opening his gifts, he called upon Legolas to open his. Legolas reached for Faramir's gift first. "Since you seem to be so good at choosing gifts, I'm interested to see what you think I'll need," he smiled. Faramir felt his throat constrict slightly. [I don't think I've ever been so nervous before. Now I feel so much pressure!] Legolas neatly unwrapped the box, and opened it. "Well! How did you know?" Legolas's hand emerged from the box holding a good-sized lamp.  
  
"You are so good at this!" Arwen said.  
  
Faramir blushed. "I remembered that you said your rooms were too dark, so I thought that a lamp might help with that," he said simply. [I'm glad he likes it.]  
  
"Thank you, Faramir, very much." Legolas smiled warmly at him, and continued along. When his presents were finished, Legolas again looked at him. "I want Faramir to open his gifts next."  
  
"Me?" Faramir was slightly confused. [Wouldn't they want to leave me until last?] "What about Aragorn?"  
  
"No - you're next," Aragorn said. "I'd like to know if we all are as good with presents as you are."  
  
"Go on, Faramir," Arwen prompted. "We're all interested."  
  
With a measure of uncertainty, he reached his hand out to the nearest box, discovering that it was the gift from Gimli. [I should have known,] he thought wryly, noting the wrinkled wrapping paper. He neatly unwrapped the paper, smoothing it out, before opening the box. "Gimli!" he exclaimed. "This is too much!"  
  
"Nonsense," the Dwarf snorted.  
  
"What is it?" Arwen asked. Faramir held up a roughly cut stone, sparkling with crystals. She turned to Gimli. "Where is that from?"  
  
"The Glittering Caves," he replied. "When Legolas and I were there, the Rohirrim were kind enough to let me cut off a stone."  
  
"Thank you so much, Gimli," Faramir said, still in awe.  
  
"It was nothing, Faramir, really. You can really thank Eowyn. She persuaded them to let me," Gimli said. "Go ahead and open the next gift."  
  
Faramir put the stone aside, and reached down to his feet, coming up with a heavier package. "Good, now you can open mine." Again, Faramir neatly unwrapped the package, and opened the box. He gave a small cry as he realized what was inside.  
  
"Queen Arwen! These must be -" Faramir started.  
  
"From Father's personal library, yes," she finished for him. "I took the liberty of raiding it before I left, and I thought those two books would interest you the most, since they are in Sindarin."  
  
"May I see?" Legolas asked. Faramir passed the books over to him. "Hmm. interesting. Very scholarly. I doubt if we'll see Faramir until he finishes them," he laughed.  
  
"What are they about? I can't read the titles," Gimli said.  
  
"One of them tells of the events leading up to the Battle of Dagorlad, and some of the events after. The other one is a detailed history of all the rulers of Gondor, both the Kings and the Stewards," Arwen said. "That's why the second book is so thick."  
  
"Thank you, my Lady," Faramir said. He glanced over at Legolas. "He's right. You probably won't see me until I'm through with them, so I apologize in advance." They laughed merrily.  
  
Faramir reached down for the last gift. He picked up a rather large, heavy box, and looked at the tag. [Legolas.] He opened the paper, followed by the box. Legolas chuckled giddily as Faramir stared in shock at the gift. "Legolas, this is too much," he said.  
  
"You always say that," he replied. "I thought it would put itself to good use."  
  
Gimli stared in curiosity at the strange configuration of wooden beams. "What is that?"  
  
"A portable easel," Faramir answered. "You store it like this," he said, lifting it so that the Dwarf could see. "And then when you want to use it, you just twist a few beams, and then -" Faramir placed the easel on the floor. He folded it back up again. "Thank you Legolas, very much." He smiled warmly at Legolas. "And now that leaves Aragorn."  
  
Arwen interrupted. "No, Estel hasn't given you his gift yet."  
  
Gimli looked down at where Faramir's gifts had laid. "Where is it?"  
  
"I kept it separate," Aragorn said as he stood, "so that Faramir would open it last." He retrieved a small, well-wrapped package, and handed it to Faramir. He then took his seat again. "Enjoy," he said, and cast a look at the others.  
  
Faramir tore through the wrapping as carefully as he could. Taking off the lid of the box, he lifted a few pieces of cloth to reveal something very familiar. "My book!" he cried. He removed it cautiously from the cloth, as though it might crumble in his hands, although it was highly unlikely, since the book was like new. Faramir immediately turned to the title page, thinking that the book might be a reprint, but sure enough, Denethor's dedication was there. "How did you -?" He found himself unable to finish his question, as he fought against tears. He tried desperately to collect himself.  
  
Luckily, Aragorn understood the question anyway. "I simply went to the best bookbinder in the City, and offered him an official position here if he could fix your book." He gave a large smile. "The incentive is amazing. He had it finished in no time."  
  
Faramir clutched the book to his heart. "Thank you, so much, thank you. You don't know - what this means to me -" Faramir managed to get himself under control in a few seconds. "I think you deserve to open your gifts now," he said. "Go on. You know you want to."  
  
Aragorn laughed, and made his way through the gifts. Lastly, he came to Faramir's. "I was purposefully saving yours for last, since I have no idea at all what this is," he said, as he lifted the large flat box onto his lap. Faramir smiled. Aragorn tore through the wrapping, and gaped in awe at Faramir's gift. "Faramir! This is wonderful!"  
  
Legolas gasped in wonder at the painting of Aragorn's coronation. "It's perfect! I'd swear that it was real!" Faramir felt his cheeks begin to flush.  
  
Gimli added his opinion. "Faramir, you got the exact moment when Aragorn stood up! It's exactly as it happened!"  
  
Aragorn was speechless. Finally, he managed a few words. "Thank you."  
  
"Happy Midwinter, Aragorn," Faramir said.  
  
"Faramir, thank you again. This will hang in a place of honour for many years." Aragorn looked down at it again. "I still can't believe this!"  
  
Arwen leaned over Aragorn's shoulder. "Now I can see how it all happened," she said quietly.  
  
"Faramir," Aragorn said, "I could never repay you."  
  
"We are even, Aragorn," Faramir said, as he lifted his book from his chair. 


	11. The Funeral

Disclaimer: Faramir, and all other things in here are not mine.  
  
Ren: THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! *hug* Of course Faramir's the best!! No question there. And yes - it IS heartwarming to know that there are other Faramir fans out there too (which also means there's more competition. *grin*). I'm glad you're enjoying the story - and yes, I plan to follow this one up in a bit with another story about the trip to Rohan that was mentioned. As for Faramir's leg braces - since you're not the only person who's asked about that, there's an explanation following the responses to reviewers, which I advise you to read. And about the description (or lack thereof) - I looked back at the story, and discovered that I had absolutely NO description at all!! Thanks a TON for pointing that out - it just never occurred to me. I will try to work on that in the future. *hug* THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!  
  
Frodo16424: THANKS!! *hug* *hug again* I'm glad you liked Faramir and Gimli's conversation. I could never picture Faramir as being sombre all the time - sure, he's had a hard life, but I think that, since he has such a strong personality, he would make that extra effort to always keep a smile on his face. Sorry about the lack of a Kleenex warning - but I don't think I'll ever remember to put one in on a regular basis, so you read at your own risk. *teehee* THANKS AGAIN FOR THE REVIEW!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Elektra12: *hug* *hug again* YAY!! Happy Midwinter!! I'm glad you liked the chapter so much - I'm sorry it took so long to get posted, but I found that one extremely difficult to write. But that's okay. ANYWAY - *hug* THANKS AGAIN!! *hug again*  
  
Steelsheen: *hug* THANKS!! I know. *huggles Faramir* I feel so badly for him. ANYWAY - thanks for the praise!! As for Faramir's leg braces, I advise you to read the "About Leg Braces" following all these really giddy responses of mine. I spit on Denethor too. Isn't he just the evilest? How could anyone ever NOT just ADORE Faramir? He's so sweet. Anyway again - about the memories/present time - I sort of wanted to cut down on the memories, in the hopes of not straying too far from the story, which is really about Faramir having to live in the Steward's Rooms. THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEW!! *hug*  
  
Szhismine: *hug* THANKS FOR REVIEWING!! It's really nice of you to say that this is good - it's wondrously encouraging. I think that Boromir and Faramir were good brothers, since Faramir seemed really broken up about his brother's death. And yes - actually, the extended edition was my birthday gift. Those scenes were really needed to make the audience understand Faramir better - and that scene with Denethor - I cried so hard!! *sniffle* My sister was laughing at me. Ah well. I'm also glad that you hate Denethor - I agree TOTALLY. THANKS AGAIN!! *hug* *hug again*  
  
Okay. Here's what everyone (seems to be) waiting for:  
  
~~ABOUT LEG BRACES~~ The idea for leg braces came from one of my British history books. One of the sons of Victoria (I think - it could have been Alexandra's son, or another one of the Hanovers/Windsors - or was it Anne? I don't really remember) had to wear leg braces for a while in his childhood, because the royal physicians thought that his legs were growing crooked. His legs, however, were perfectly fine, and all it did was give him a lot of pain for no real reason. So, getting back to Faramir - I can imagine that Faramir might have to go through something similar, which would give a basis to Denethor constantly telling him that he is weak. Also - since Finduilas died when Faramir was 5 because she faded away - I think it may be safe to assume that mayhap his birth may have been very hard/premature, which could definitely cause health problems for him, including leg problems. I would have included this kind of explanation earlier, in the actual story, had I known that it was confuzzling. Honestly, it was just a small detail I threw in for good measure, and I never really thought that it might cause people to scratch their heads. So I apologize for that. I hope this clears it up a bit. SORRY AGAIN!!  
  
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Chapter Eleven: The Funeral  
  
A small group of Gondorian nobles gathered in the Memorial Gardens, two weeks after Midwinter. At their head were King Elessar and the Steward Faramir. Both were standing straight and tall, dressed in black and silver, beside the two freshly dug graves. A group of soldiers carried slowly a small urn on a pall, and brought it to one of the two holes in the ground.  
  
Aragorn took a step forward. "We come to send the late Steward Denethor to his rest." Faramir bowed his head slightly. "He was a good and honourable man, lost like so many others, to the Dark Lord." He turned his head towards Faramir for a moment, and then looked back to the assembly. "But we must never forget the good he accomplished in his life by remembering only his death. Denethor's spirit lives on in the City that he loved and faithfully served his whole life." He gave a sign, and the soldiers reverently placed the urn in the ground. Aragorn knelt, and gathered a fistful of dirt, then sprinkled it onto the urn. "Farewell Denethor son of Ecthelion. Find rest now in the halls of your forefathers." The group bowed their heads, as the soldiers filled in the grave with soil.  
  
When they were finished, Aragorn began speaking again. "And now, we will honour the memory of Boromir son of Denethor." Faramir closed his eyes hard for a moment, trying to stop the threatening tears. He opened them as Aragorn continued. "Boromir was a valiant and noble man, who gave his own life to save those of his friends. He was a friend to all who knew him, and loved his country more than anything." He sighed. "There is nothing I can say to ease the pain of his loss, for Boromir was, above all, a kind and honourable man. And yet, we still seek a way to give him that which he most sought - to be at peace in Gondor." Faramir continued his losing struggle against his emotions. "Boromir did not live to see this peace, but we can still give him the gift of lying in peace, in Gondor, in his own land." Faramir gave a quiet, shuddering sigh. "Boromir's body has passed out to sea. But we can remember him in another way." Aragorn looked over at Faramir, and nodded. He walked slowly forward, and placed one knee on the ground, before the open grave. From the folds of his cloak, Faramir produced the vambraces. Gently, he placed them into the shallow pit, and then walked back to the others.  
  
Faramir turned to face the group, and spoke as clearly as he could. "King Elessar saved Boromir's vambraces. I can think of no better way to remember him than by burying them. They represent everything that was dear to Boromir: his country, his people, and the memory of the White Tree." Having said this, he took his place at Aragorn's side.  
  
"May Boromir son of Denethor, High Warden of the White Tower, Captain- General of the armies of Gondor, rest in peace." Aragorn paused. "Hail, Boromir!" He cried. The assembly responded with the same cry three times, as was customary. At a sign from him, the soldiers filled in Boromir's grave, and then stood at attention around it.  
  
Faramir walked forward with a torch. "These fires will burn until the very City crumbles, for they burn in memory of the Lords Denethor and Boromir." Slowly, he lit two small beacons, standing on either side of the memorial. Again, he made his way to Aragorn's side.  
  
After a minute of silence, Aragorn spoke again. "We have honoured the dead as best as we could. And now it is time to continue with the work they gave their lives for." He led a slow procession out of the Memorial Gardens.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Later that evening, Faramir walked silently out to the Gardens. Using all of his skills as a Ranger, he managed to leave the Citadel without attracting anyone's attention. Faramir made his way to the Memorial and stood before it.  
  
[Father, I hope you have found the peace that you so deserve. I hope that I have not dishonoured you by having you buried in this manner. It is not according to your traditions, but the Fourth Age has come, and with it many changes that I think even you would not have been able to guess. As for myself, know this - that I love you, and that I am glad to know that you cared for me too. You are my father, and you always will be.]  
  
[Brother, I miss you dearly. I think, despite everything that has happened, that if I could change one thing, I would bring you back. I wish there was some way I could, for I would, no matter what the price. I wish that you could see Gondor as she is now. I wish that you could be here to enjoy this peace. I wish more than all, though, that I could have an opportunity to thank you, for all that you have done for me. No man in the world could have had a better brother. For all those years, you were my best friend. You helped make me who I am today. You helped me through all the difficult times. And now there is nothing I can do for you, except to honour your memory as best as I can. I take consolation in this though: that when it is my time to die, I can look forward to seeing you again.] Faramir let the tears roll down his cheeks. Eventually, he knelt down, and wept for his family. But when he had finished, a strange sense of tranquility came over him. And when he returned to the Steward's rooms, to his rooms that night, he slept well.  
  
THE END  
  
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Well, that's that. I want to thank everyone who reviewed. THANKS!! You really helped me along. *group hug* And of course - Happy Midwinter!! *opens up a box of truffles, and passes it around* Enjoy!! And I hope that you'll check out the forthcoming stories that are related to this one, when I finally get them written and posted. So thanks again, and Happy Midwinter to you all!! 


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